Only In The World of Dragons
by atruwriter
Summary: Charlie's passion had always been dragons. Slowing down was never an option, which didn't change when he fell in love with fellow keeper Hermione Granger. At least until the life they planned together hit a dangerous, deathly snag. CWHG Summary inside...
1. Part One: Dragon Keepers In Love

**Author**: _atruwriter  
_**Genre:** _Romance/Drama/Angst_  
**Rating:** _PG-13 to R  
_**Warning**: _This contains sex and harsh language._  
**Spoilers**: _None that I can think of..._  
**Disclaimer**: _I do not own any rights to any of the television shows/books I have written fanfiction for. I own only my creative thought process and the characters I make up on a whim. Ownership of all else lies solely in the hands of others.  
_**Image(s)**: _Banner and chapter photo can be found on my profile!_  
**Summary**: Charlie Weasley's passion had always been dragons. He thrived on exhileration, adrenaline, and death defying games of dodge the fireball and jump the spiked tail. His life never slowed when he met his girlfriend, however fellow dragon keeper Hermione Granger, gave Charlie a whole new passion: her. But just when their life together finds a new beginning, it all falls apart in a storm of secrets and blood.  
**Author's Note**: _This is my first Charlie/Hermione story and I've spent a few weeks putting it all together. It's 7-parts, the last being an epilogue, and the first six are very long. The story follows Charlie, with a few moments in Bill's POV. It's set after Hogwarts, Hermione would be nearly 21 years old while Charlie is 27. I hope you enjoy it as much I've liked writing it...  
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_**Only In The World of Dragons**_

_Part One – Dragon Keepers In Love_

Charlie never brought girls home. It wasn't really an option with him. His girlfriends didn't last long and none of them were what he would call the type he'd introduce to his brothers, let alone his mum. He knew his mother well and the minute he introduced a woman he was interested in to her would be the same minute Molly Weasley broke out her wedding planner. It wasn't up to him, he wouldn't have to get her a ring or even propose, his mum would plan the wedding before the second dinner. His girlfriend would be referred to as Charlie's fiancée and Molly's newest daughter. It was just the way his mum was. He loved that about her sometimes, but there was a reason he was so careful when it came to relationships. During his career as a dragon keeper he'd had on and off relationships with various other female keepers but those never lasted. They were interested in blowing off steam after an adrenaline rush with one of the dragons and he was more interested in the giant lizards than wooing a girlfriend. Sometimes he picked up the girls in the town nearby, lounging in Scales Pub and enjoying a dance, a snog, or a shag with a pretty woman. Other than that though, he'd only had a handful of relationships and those women had come up short or didn't appreciate his dangerous job. But that was all all before _she_ turned his life right side up.

Charlie stared down at the woman fast asleep next to him, her face was pressed against his stomach, nose buried in his abdomen. Her soft breath tickled against his bellybutton and he couldn't help but smile at how far she had managed to squirm down the bed in her sleep. Her hand was splayed out over his far hip, fingers against the snoozing silvery-blue Swedish Short-Snout dragon tattoo covering most of his side and curling around the top of his upper thigh. Her body was curved and her legs wrapped around his loosely, her back arched beneath the white sheet that barely covered his naked lower half. Her dark hair brushed against his skin, tangled and messy from their late night excursion. Her bare shoulders peeked out at him, smooth and tanned from the heated sun. When they weren't expected to control the dragons, she chose to wear only a thin tank top, leaving her arms, back and shoulders free to be tanned. He reached out to trace the lines of where her shirt covered, her skin lightening to a pale cream colour. He could hear her faint breathing and felt content where he was. Judging by how much light was spilling through the flap of the tent window, they'd have to get up soon and change from lovers to dragon keepers. He sighed, not really wanting to leave the warmth of the bed and the comfort of her supple body around his.

When Charlie met his girlfriend, not for the first time, he hadn't expected anything to come out of it. She was seven years his junior, brilliant beyond measure and had a strong attitude in her that could either make her sexily bossy or a nagging hag. She came to the colony to learn about dragons and figure out if it was a career worth pursuing, knowledge was her sustenance. She wanted to know everything about everything and while it was admirable, Charlie wasn't exactly interested in using his dragons as her lab experiment. Surprising them both she grew fond of the giant and moody lizards and worked to become a dragon keeper herself. The war had ended months before her decision to join his profession, when she was just eighteen and supposed to be finishing her seventh year at Hogwarts, and two years prior to their relationship. Voldemort and his Death Eaters were out to destroy everything in their path and the Order wasn't about to let it happen. Charlie was working with the Order against the rise in dark activity while Harry Potter with best friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley set out to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes, of which only the trio and Dumbledore knew of. In their absence, the Order was doing damage control, trying to stave off as many attacks as they could. Sadly, the Weasley family suffered a death, losing their third eldest son Percy in a Ministry attack. While Percy hadn't been close to the family at the time, still shunning them for their lack of support in the Minister and their thriving belief in Harry, Percy was still family and his death hit home hard. They mourned him as if he'd never turned his back on them, treating him like they would any other Weasley. And his death was avenged, Charlie made sure of that, the memory still haunted him some nights.

After the war ended with Harry destroying Voldemort once and for all, life had slowly gone back to what was considered normal. Most of Charlie's friends and family were battered and bruised, uncertain about the true nature of the future, but hopeful that the world could rebuild in Voldemort's wake. Charlie returned to Romania to continue working as a dragon keeper, though early on he was battling against a limp in his left leg from a curse, he was able to overcome the handicap and could walk without problem. Sometimes late at night, however, if he'd had a vigorous day, his calf would start burning from the old injury, keeping him up all night, gritting his teeth against the agony. Which is how his relationship with his girlfriend slowly began. Hermione Granger wasn't one to take no for an answer, especially when she felt somebody was hurt or in danger. When she overheard Charlie in his tent late one night, groaning against the pain and trying to walk it out some, she'd set out to do something about it.

_Charlie tried pacing the floor of his tent for the _n_th time. The aching pain of his leg was slowly rising up to his thigh and he wasn't sure he could put off seeing the camp medi-witch much longer. He'd long kicked off his pants so he could rub his leg in hopes of pushing away the pain, but it was of no help. His eyes stung from the agony, but he refused to cry over something so trivial. It was just a little pain. He'd been through worse. He was a bloody dragon keeper for fuck sakes. He could handle a little pain. Gritting his teeth, he dug his palm back into his leg, his fingernails clawing at his skin as if to dig out the problem. He rubbed his good foot on the ground, needing to move or do something. Anything to make him feel like he wasn't helpless. His back was beginning to ache from sitting forward and leaning down to his leg and his jaw was bugging him from how hard he was gritting his teeth._

_Suddenly, the fabric door of the tent flew open and a bushy head of hair came forward. Before Charlie could tell her to go away, Hermione shook her head at him, a stern expression on her face. "Just how long have you been acting like you were fine, Charlie Weasley?" she asked, her voice nearly as chastising and worrisome as his mother's. "Unbelievable," she muttered, not even waiting for him to say. "The pain you must be in." Rolling her eyes, she knelt in front of him, wrapping a cold hand around his ankle and pulling it forward to stretch his leg out, resting his heel on her thigh. He hissed, disliking the pull of muscles in his calf. She frowned at him, as if telling him he had no right to feel pain. Scowling at her, he thinned his mouth and told himself he wouldn't make another sound._

_She felt around his leg, her fingers cold and probing. He wanted to tell her to stop, that she wasn't trained in healing and she didn't know what she was doing. But the sensation of cold against the muscles was relaxing and her fingers were slowly easing the pain a tiny bit. Her hands suddenly disappeared and his eyes jerked open (he hadn't realized they were closed). He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, why she stopped, when he saw her twist the top off a jar and dig her hand into a mint green goo of some sort. "This might be a little chilly," she warned him, her voice only mildly apologetic. _

_He considered snapping back at her about how rude she was being to begin with and to remind her that he hadn't made her come and attack him in hopes of feeling up his leg. He was minding his own business when she barged in. But then her hand came back out of the jar and she began rubbing it together over her hands before reaching out and pressing her palms against his leg once more. He jumped at just how cold the goo was, but pursed his lips hard so no sound escape. Charlie bit his lip when her fingers began massaging, a sharp pain shooting through his muscles, but then his teeth pressed into his lip out of shocking comfort. Her knuckles kneaded, her palms squeezed and her nails lightly grazed, making it all into one of the best experiences of his life. The pain receded and he was left in a boneless heap of relaxation. His eyes fluttered and his leg felt numb and better than ever before._

_Sitting half up, his body angled funny, Charlie fell asleep beneath her incredibly soothing ministrations. Hours later, with the sun coming up, he woke in his bed and knew Hermione had levitated him from his position. He immediately felt guilt for feeling so angry at her from the night before, realizing that she was only trying to help. He was snappish when he was in pain and he hadn't meant to take out on her. In fact, she had given him the best sleep he'd had since before the war. He made a decision that morning that he would make it up to her. And after showering and dressing he went searching to try and make something out of nothing._

From that night a hopeful, albeit mildly awkward, friendship began. Her first year at the reserve, Charlie hadn't paid her much mind. He figured she'd eventually leave the dragons for some kind of field research, but she never showed any sign of tiring over the lizards. His mother always asked him to keep an eye out for her, but he wasn't sure what to do when it came to her. She didn't go out of her way to befriend him or even acknowledge his existence, so he kept to himself and went about as usual. They were civil; more of acquaintances at the reserve. But the following year, after her caring act over his leg, Charlie took the initiative in getting to know Hermione a little better. He'd always seen her as the bushy haired, know-it-all that his little brother Ron palled around with while harboring a long time crush on. He'd recognized her as essential to Harry during the Final Battle, knowing that her best friend was virtually fucked without Hermione's intelligence and support and of course, Ron's friendship and strong strategist skills. Over the nine years of her friendship with Harry and Ron, however, Charlie had grown used to thinking of her as the young, bookwormish, friend of his brother. He was in for a big shock when after a year of learning about what made her tick, he stopped seeing the brains and started seeing the beauty.

Twelve months had left her and Charlie with a solid foundation for friendship. Hermione had even given him advice about women when he had a three week strikeout at Scales Pub where women just didn't seem interested anymore. She was there to clean his wounds when he was caught in the crossfire of his dragons and always had the salve ready to massage away the pain in his leg. He couldn't even count how many times she'd tucked him into bed after rubbing his leg into submission and him into sleep. While friendships at the reserve were strained at best, he found a good one with Hermione. When her books were put aside and she had no war-related reason to be insistent on studying or preparing, there was a whole other side to her. He started to see why sport enthusiast types like Harry and Ron could get along with her as well as they did, or why Bill seemed to admire her so easily. It became more obvious why the twins enjoyed teasing her too, as she was quite pretty was she was flushed with annoyance and had her hands curled on her hips. That and she was brilliant with payback pranks, something Charlie became familiar with. Before long, they had a strong familiarity between them and Charlie found most of his time was spent with the brilliant young woman.

"_I can't believe you did something so... so... UGH! I can't even describe the idiocy behind what you did, Charlie Weasley," Hermione muttered to him angrily. She had a jar of thick, pink, lumpy salve. He'd been playing around with one of the baby Peruvian Vipertooths, which love humans for dessert, when it turned around and took a bite out of his thigh. "You're lucky it was just a baby! Had it been a few months older the venom in its fangs would have you without a leg!" she screeched, looking from him to his injured thigh. Sighing, she shook her head before reaching across to the side table by her chair and grabbing a sugarless candy. She popped one into her mouth and tossed another to him which he habitually stuck under his tongue to melt away and fill his mouth with the tangy flavor. He could tell she was using the candy as a way to both stop herself from reaming him out and simultaneously to hinder her from asking him if it hurt. She didn't want to show him any mercy in hopes of deterring him from doing it again, which only amused him._

_Charlie was lying on his side, an amused half-smile on his face. He was thumbing through one of her tomes. She had been reading when he limped into her tent, bleeding and holding a dirty rag against his leg. She had shouted at him to go to the medi-witch, but Tanya was down at Scales Pub for the night. So he'd plopped down on her bed and let her tend to him, knowing that she had an extensive knowledge about healing and had various potions and salves stocked up for just this type of problem. She'd researched every possible problem that could arise at the reserve and made a potion or salve to help it. She'd even been making up jars for Tanya to use so she wouldn't have to wait for them to owled in._

"_When'd you get this book?" Charlie wondered, his eyes perusing the pages of a legend about a dragon he'd long past read about when he just a boy._

_Hermione looked up from his leg and paused in her angry mutterings. "I wrote to Harry and asked him to send it to me. He whined about having to go to five different book shops before he finally found it. It's filled with dragon lore, very interesting subject. You should read the passage on the Greek Hydra dragon, it's always fascinated me," she told him, leaning forward, her hands still wrapped around his bare thigh. Pantless, Charlie was fairly sure that it wouldn't look too good to anybody who might walk in. He had no say in the matter though, the minute he explained to Hermione what he'd done and where Tanya was, she'd ordered him out of his pants. She ended up having to help him, the blood matting his pant to his leg._

"_I used to read stories about the Hydra when I was younger," he told her, flipping the page over to see a nine-headed beast enlarge as the figure of Hercules cut off one long, fierce head only to make room for two more to grow. "I told my mum I was going to find it when I was older. Said Hercules never really killed it."_

_Hermione smiled at him, "It was always my favorite of the stories about dragons. It had such an interesting history. Eventually you'd think it'd become a hazard having so many heads," she murmured, her eyes turning off thoughtfully before she returned her attention to his leg. She'd stopped the bleeding and was now tending to the sore and torn flesh. "Tell me again why you were tempting the Vipertooth," Hermione asked, lifting a brow at him as she ran her wand over the top of his thigh once more._

_Charlie grinned, looking up from the book to watch her. "It wanted to play," he told her, winking as he looked at him non-plussed._

"_Charlie, I don't know how you've made it this long. You're not supposed to be playing with them. You **know** they enjoy humans for lunch, why would you tempt that?" she asked him, shaking her head, though he could see a very faint smile on her lips of amusement._

"_Hermione, think of how boring their lives would be if I didn't play with them every once in awhile," he told her, flipping through her tome once more, his voice ringing with cheek._

_She sighed, exasperated. "Charlie, think of how lonely I'll be when you finally get your arse chewed off by one of them," replicating his tone._

"_I had no idea you had such a close relationship with my arse," he replied, smirking._

_Hermione snorted, "It's nothing special, believe me."_

_Charlie lifted his hand, pressing it to his chest in a mock pained expression. "I'm hurt. I thought you and it were close. I might as well sacrifice myself to the dragons now," he said, making to get off the bed._

"_Don't even think about it," she shrieked, her hands tightening around his leg, the other moving to stop him, managing to press against said arse in way of trying to keep him from injuring himself more. "I'm deeply close to it," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "And I'd prefer if you didn't get yourself killed before the night is out. I've had a long day and I'd much rather finish cleaning you up so I can read the rest of my chapter and head to bed," she told him, shaking her head._

_Charlie chuckled good-naturedly. "Well, I've never been one to get in the way of true love," he teased before settling back in with her book. He could hear her muttering under her breath, spells for checking his injury and then healing it. He could feel the muscles of his leg relaxing, the skin tingling until he couldn't feel any of the pain any longer. She was rubbing a salve against it that looked similar to the one she used on his leg when it acted up. When she was done he was drowsy and his eyes were fluttering as he tried to read the end of his sentence._

"_Charrrrlieeee," she sing-songed softly against his face, her breath warm on his throat, slowly rising to his cheek. "Come on, Charlie, time to wake up."_

"_Mm," he murmured back, wanting to burrow into the softness of her blanket._

_Her hand rested against his side, the warmth made it through his shirt to his skin sending comforting tingles over his torso. She rubbed at his ribs, trying to wake him but managing to soothe him closer to slumber. She sighed, lifting the book out from beneath his hand and he had the urge to tell her not to lose his page, but his mouth wouldn't work. He felt her working the blanket out from beneath him to wrap him in it. She tucked it in around his body, careful around his leg and he felt her fingers brush his hair off his forehead before she pressed a kiss against his temple. "You're far too reckless for your own good, Charlie Weasley," she murmured affectionately. "And you're lucky I put up with you."_

_He smiled, knowing she was right. Sometimes he wondered if maybe he was extra dangerous, just because he knew she'd take care of him. This wasn't the first time he'd come to her tent, bleeding and injured. There was the time he'd been playing 'dodge the fireball' with Lucy the Antipodean Opaleye and misstepped right into one that caught his foot pretty bad. Or the time he was playing something similar to 'skip rope' with Garrett the Hebridean Black, when one of the spikes on his tail caught Charlie's arm. It was never anything serious, most of the dragons he played with were trained from birth and never went out of their way to hurt him. They were older and enjoyed Charlie's stupid acts of tomfoolery. Hermione didn't enjoy them however, as she was the one left to fix him up and chastise his behavior, which he continued to find amusement in and then ignore. He heard her footsteps as she walked back over to her chair to continue reading while he let himself drift off, listening to the faint turn of the pages as she read._

Over the full three years Hermione had worked at the camp, she'd had her share of luck with the dragons. She'd been singed but never severely burned. Her hair had caught the brunt of it until she decided to cut it short for safety reasons. It still fell to her chin, softer and easier to manage now. The curls were more obvious and her hair looked nicely sleek and comfortable around her heart shaped face. Charlie had noticed before the haircut that she had a certain pixie beauty to her. Soft and small, rather hidden and not really self recognized. But after the haircut, removing the thick hair from her shoulders, she was even more radiant. It also freed her to move around, to do the hard work of a dragon keeper without worrying about flyaway curls coming at her face with a vengeance. With her hair no longer a hazard, Hermione dodged the oncoming fire a lot easier, but she didn't come away unscathed. Wearing form fitting black suits kept her arms and legs covered at all times, but the fire burnt through it without preamble. Hermione's forearms had various burns on them from time to time and a nasty one across her collarbone that never quite healed completely. There was still a faintly purplish red stripe crossing beneath her throat and over her heart. She'd been lucky though, she had yet to have a hard hit to her body so far, which always had Charlie on edge.

When he and Hermione became friends, Charlie had nearly nine years under his belt as a dragon keeper and he'd taken numerous hits himself. There were still the regular burns that came with the job, singed skin on the arms and burn upon burn upon burn on his hands. He still caught fire from time to time, but he'd come to an age where the hard hits that took the rookies off their feet came once in a blue moon for him. He had the agility to move before the blast hit and the knowledge to know when it was coming. The first rule of dragon keeping was that they weren't true Keepers until they took a big hit and Charlie was nervously waiting the day that Hermione went down. He'd grown close to her over the year following the night she helped him through his awkward and embarrassing injury and wasn't willing to admit just how much she had come to mean to him. It was normal for most in his career to be careful who they got close to. Their job wasn't easy by any standards and many were lost to the cause. On top of that, a relationship so close to the job was stressful and weakening. A Keeper couldn't be watching his back and that of his lover's, it just wasn't safe.

After two years of hard work Hermione had been welcomed in the reserve rather easily. She had a number of friends in the other men, but didn't seem to get along so well with the women. It wasn't that they were like so many other Hermione had known, obsessed with make up or fashion or snagging a husband, they just didn't relate to Hermione quite as well as the men did. Hermione had grown up with two boys as best friends, where she was forced to play mother hen and brainiac. At first the women were welcoming but it wore off when it became obvious that there wasn't any solid ground for them to relate on. The other female dragon keepers didn't care much for books or knowledge and relied solely on their background with dragons and since Hermione was new they tended to treat her with kid gloves rather than like a capable person. She didn't appreciate being talked down to and reminded them regularly that she knew about dragons extensively and while she appreciated their teachings, she didn't want them to patronize her. The majority of the female population on the reserve didn't like her, but there were a few that enjoyed her company. She got along well with Tanya, the medi-witch, and Carla the co-director of the reserve. She also made friends with each new Keeper, be them female or male, and soon she wasn't without friends.

Plus, while Hermione had a hard time relating to the women she fit right in with the men. She picked up her usual mother-like position and before long the men were looking up to her like she was their faux-girlfriend. When upset, they crashed Hermione's tent to spill their feelings without being ridiculed. Charlie had the misfortune of walking in on a sodded dragon keeper as he cried on Hermione's couch about how his girlfriend had broken up with him through owl post and quickly exited before anybody saw him. Hermione was the resident emotional baggage holder. She listened with the ear of a thousand understanding women, doling out advice when needed, but mostly just supplying soothing tea and a shoulder to lean on. The men didn't admit to each other that she was reliable when things were tough, that she was the first to be informed when things were going good or bad, but it was a well known fact.

Outside of being a pseudo-shrink, Hermione kept the camp from becoming a dirty and disgusting mess. While she didn't pick up after them all, she did reform them from their usually disgustingly sloppy selves to little more tidy forms. She had somehow managed to teach all of the men in the camp to separate their darks from their lights to better assist the house elves employed to do their laundry, which Charlie was shocked to see even himself do without consciously meaning to. He found himself with two separate baskets in his bedroom, he naturally separated his clothes after climbing out of them. It became habit for all of them, much to Hermione's pleasure. She was making an imprint on the reserve quickly and soon became a very well liked part of the team. She partnered with Charlie when their friendship began, partly because of her being a rookie and him being a long term keeper and also because he was comforted in knowing he had her back.

It wasn't long before they became known as a duo in the camp. The other keepers naturally assumed that where Charlie was Hermione could be found and vice versa, which was usually true. On the odd night that Charlie ventured down to the bar while Hermione took up with her books back at her tent, they were separated, but more often they could be found playing Exploding Snap or discussing a subject Hermione had recently read about. She had books flown into her from Harry and Ron who were working back in Britain as Aurors. While they had been upset that she was moving so far away, they still got to see her every other Sunday for a Weasley family dinner and she took a few weeks off each year to vacation with them somewhere with vast oceans and warm sand. She spent her Christmas and holidays with the Weasleys and Harry, having lost her parents to the Muggle attacks during the War and finding refuge in the family that had always been there for her. When she first lost them, she had no time to grieve with the War raging around her and was forced to push her pain away until victory had been made.

Upon the end of the War, Hermione later confided to Charlie that she spent a couple months holed up in her childhood home, or what was left of it. Fire damage had destroyed a large portion of the house, but Hermione camped out with a sleeping bag in her old bedroom and ate out when food was needed. She was forced to leave when the city decided to tear the house down and replace it with a new, more modern one. Finally coming to grips with the loss of her parents and the reality of the new Wizarding world, she decided to start a new life, to search for a career that fit her. She went on a quest for knowledge, learning as much as she could about every job there was by working at each of them for short periods of time. Being _the_ Hermione Granger, most brilliant witch of their age, and war heroine, she had no trouble convincing businesses to give her a chance in hopes that she would stay. She was just a few weeks into learning about dragons when she found a passion for them and decided she'd had enough of looking, she'd found what she went looking for. Charlie wasn't sure how to tell her how courageous he thought she was to keep going on in the War when she'd already lost what she had, but she seemed to understand all the same. She offered him a sugarless candy, something she always seemed to have on her, and then turned the subject to something concerning Hungarian Horntails while she stared at him with eyes that told him she had finally had a large burden lifted from her. He wondered if Harry and Ron knew anything about the time she spent at the Granger house after the War, but never asked. He could feel it, knew that he was probably the only one who knew, who would ever know, and he felt a strong connection with her because of that.

Despite the fact that Charlie and Hermione were close at the colony, the Weasleys and Harry saw them for so little time that it was never really that noticeable to them how close the two were. Neither Charlie or Hermione went out of their way to talk about each other, finding comfort in the friendship that was so closely kept back at work. The only Weasley who knew was Bill, through letters that Charlie sent him every few weeks about work and such. He admitted to his older brother that he considered Hermione his best mate in most ways, finding a brilliant friend to confide in and talk to while in the sometimes suffocating and rather lonely area of the camp. He knew better than to mention anything to the twins, knowing they'd blow it out of context and he didn't want their friendship the subject of ridicule. He never asked if she told Harry or Ron, but Charlie could tell by the way they all acted when they returned to the Burrow that her two best friends knew nothing more than that Hermione was Charlie's partner. Because he never went out of the way to talk about it, he didn't question her intentions concerning keeping it all a secret.

A little over a year after their friendship started Charlie began noticing little things about Hermione that had more effect on him that a friend should. He found the scent of her hair always made his heart skip a beat, the rich sound of her laughter caused goose-flesh to break out over his skin and sometimes when she smiled he felt his stomach knot up anxiously. His visits to the pub began to diminish, finding more fun with Hermione instead of Firewhiskey and flirty blondes with keys to random hotel rooms. He was confused about what it meant, he'd never really looked at any woman and thought they were more interesting than just relaxing with a drink in a bar. Even during his relationships, most of the women he dated could only hold his interest for so long. They got boring quickly or they just didn't hold enough interest in danger and adventure. He figured he'd meet a female dragon keeper who would feel the same way he did, would thrive on the exhilaration of taming dragons and then be able to do something other than shag and sleep. He wanted interesting conversation and intriguing company. He needed a woman who was strong and confidant without being masculine like some of the female keepers were. She had to be soft and exude some sense of femininity but still be able to hold her own. Then Hermione suddenly became all the more clear and he found his best friend was who he'd been looking for.

Usually Charlie was outgoing with women, he had a certain charm about him that brought more than a few birds his way. But when it came to Hermione, he floundered. Instead of flirting with her, he found himself falling into the same banter he always had. He couldn't seem to find his Gryffindor courage to tell her how he really felt and every time somebody else expressed interest he found himself territorial and rather possessive. Hermione hadn't noticed, but he'd become good at acting like good ol' Charlie, same old pal as usual. Meanwhile, it was eating away at him. He wanted to tell her, knew he should, but couldn't seem to find the words. He spent three miserable weeks thinking nothing would ever happen, nobody would ever know. Then his bubble was burst when he realized he wasn't as covert as he thought and how he felt was more obvious than he knew, and it'd been going on for longer than even he realized.

"_Yeh okay, Charlie, yeh've been zonin' out fer the past hour. We borin' yeh, mate?" fellow dragon keeper, Jonas O'Shannon asked him, lifting a thick brow._

_They were holed up at Scales, a few pints in and Charlie couldn't keep his mind on what the other chaps around him were going on about as they jumped from subject to subject easily. There were an attractive and leggy blonde dancing with a shapely red headed woman that Jonas was imitating a lewd conversation between them to the other keepers for a few laughs. Charlie's mind kept wandering to Hermione sitting back at the reserve, probably in the orange threadbare chair of hers, reading one of her thick tomes with her feet up and dressed in nothing but one of his old Quidditch jerseys that she'd pinched from him early on. _

"_Nah, just a little preoccupied, is all," Charlie replied, not interested in sharing his thoughts. While Hermione had become a figurehead for matronliness, it didn't mean the other Dragon Keepers hadn't noticed the fact that she was an attractive young female. With her soft curves and nicely toned physique, pert nose with a light spattering of freckles, plump pink lips begging to be kissed, warm brown eyes glittering with laughter and knowledge, she was perhaps the most beautiful creature to pass at least Charlie's eyes._

"_Yeh thinkin 'bout 'Mione there, mate?" Jonas asked, staring at him knowingly._

"_What? No," he replied, a little too quickly. He tried to laugh as if Jonas had said something absurd, but it sounded a bit forced. Picking up his pint, he knocked it back a gulp, trying to tell his eyes to take in the sexily grinding women on the dance floor. He wondered how Jonas knew. Was he transparent? Did the other keepers see it, too? Had Hermione? He stiffened, worried that maybe she had known and simply ignored it. She might see him as a brother, he thought distastefully. Like Ron or Harry. He shuddered. Damn, he hoped she didn't. Not after the heated dreams he'd had of her, the future he found himself thinking of more often. It was wrong. Her thinking of him as Charlie the big brother, or Charlie the best friend, while he couldn't get his mind off how nice it would be to snog her senseless, to whisper against her lips about how much he wanted to taste her, to hold her tightly._

"_Yeh sure, Char? 'Cause yeh got tha' look abou'chu again," Jonas interrupted his thoughts again._

_He looked over at the man, confused. Jonas was one of the younger keepers, only a few years up on Charlie. He had a vast knowledge of dragons and an even deeper knowledge of women. Though not all of it was good. He'd had three wives all ready but no children, decidedly. He said his dragons were the reason, too busy caring about them to remember he should be playing house. He'd long ago decided that women just weren't interested in a man with a fifty foot lizard for a best friend, but wanted stability that Jonas just wasn't able to give._

_Charlie shook his head. "What look?" he muttered, his eyes turned off._

"_Tha' look tha' says yer about ready teh happily put yer head in the guillotine if it meant yeh got teh touch her," Jonas told him, winking over his tankard._

_Charlie snorted, lifting his brow at Jonas. "Hermione and I are just friends," he said, though the words felt wrong in his mouth. He'd said them so often though. Back when Brian wanted to ask her for a drink at Scales nearly a year ago, or when the brunette from a few months back wanted him to dance with her. He'd even wrote the same words to Bill a few times when his brother questioned his true relationship with Hermione._

_This time though, the whole table laughed. He frowned, leaning back in his chair as he listened to eight drunk dragon keepers slam the table with their fists and laugh obnoxiously. All right, maybe he'd been a little more obvious than he thought. He'd only known about his feelings a few weeks. It wasn't as if he'd been trailing after her like a lost puppy. He thought he'd acted the same as usual. So he opened the door for her a little more often, or rested his hand on the small of her back while they were walking, and then there was that time that he'd grabbed her hand while they were on their way back to the tents, but he didn't think she'd even noticed the difference. He waited for the laughing to stop, drinking his ale and glaring at Jonas who just shook his head knowingly._

_When it finally died down, Jonas said, "Mate, there are girls yeh can say tha' about and nobody'll see the difference, but tha' doesn't count with yeh an' 'Mione. Now I can't figure when yeh finally pulled yer head from yer arse, but I know tha' yeh have now. No point lyin' teh us, Char, we know yer smitten with her," he told him, smirking._

_Charlie shook his head, wanting to deny it, wanting to tell them that there was no interest on his part. There were a handful of reasons why he shouldn't. She was Ron's best friend, his little brother had a crush on her since forever, she was seven years younger than him, he wasn't a long-term guy, he couldn't come close to matching her smarts wise, she'd never be interested in a man who worked with just his hands and hardly exercised his brain. He sighed, frowning. "She's my best friend, there's nothing there."_

"_Right," Jonas muttered, nodding. "Tha's why yeh took a shot at Toby when he said he'd love teh get a leg over her." _

_Charlie felt his neck heat up, he was still sore with Toby for that one. Stupid bugger was mouthing off about wanting to shag Hermione while she was chatting with one of the House Elves about what they'd prepared for lunch that afternoon. It was a natural reaction. Shut the bugger's mouth and hope the others got the point. Hermione was off limits. Didn't mean anything except that he honored her friendship. At least that's what he'd hoped it looked like. Toby was lucky Hermione came over to see what had happened and if Charlie was okay or he might've continued beating the shite out of the bastard. He could be a little testosterone driven, he knew that. It was expected. He kept dragons for Merlin's sake, he lived off adrenalin. Instead of answering Jonas, he muttered under his breath about how Toby should keep it in his pants._

"_Or tha' time yeh warned tha' local wizard who was interested in dancin' with her tha' if he didn't walk off yeh'd feed him to yer dragon," Jonas reminded, outright grinning now as the others bobbed their head and chuckled their agreement._

_Charlie scowled. That local wizard was a putz anyway. Coming in with his coiffed hair and expensive robes. What was he doing at Scales anyway? he wondered. Probably out looking for an attractive dragon keeper to steal away for a night. Well, he wasn't about to let the bastard make Hermione another notch on his broom. Besides, the chap had been staring at her arse the whole night, he was lucky Charlie had even warned him rather than just knocking him out with his tankard. "Boy was a letch. I was lookin' out for her," he muttered defensively._

"_Right, and how 'bout tha' time when Cherie tried teh set her up with his cousin. Guy worked as an Arithmancy professor and had top grades at Hogwarts or wha'ever. Supposed teh be a real good chap, was very interested in meetin' her, even agreed teh come out and see her at the reserve if she didn' want teh leave. Yeh told Cherie tha' Mione'd hate the guy and tha' she wasn't interested in datin' anyone. She had her hands full. But 'Mione'd been just talkin' 'bout how lonely it was 'round the camp the night before," he reminded, rolling his eyes._

_Charlie crossed his arms over his chest, glaring darkly at Jonas. "He lived in Sussex and commuted to Hogwarts for work. He didn't have time for her," he told him, shaking his head. "She needs someone closer, someone that wasn't only going to see her when school let out for hols."_

"_Someone nearby, like in the reserve, maybe a tent or three down," Jonas replied teasingly._

"_I don't think Hermione's interested in Kelsy," he replied bitingly, referring to the woman staying next to Hermione's tent._

_Jonas laughed, shaking his head, his thick dark hair falling into his eye with the action. He brushed it off and Charlie didn't fail to notice how a few of the women in the bar swooned. Despite Jonas' lack in interest in long term, there were various short-term women interested in him. Charlie was fairly sure the majority of the keepers in the reserve, save for the married ones had gone a night or more with Jonas. "Listen, Char, I get tha'cha want teh preserve the friendship and all that dragon shite, but bloody hell mate, make a move or get outta the way. Yeh can't play watcher forever."_

_Charlie rolled his eyes, playing unconcerned though he knew that Jonas was right. Hermione was an attractive and intelligent woman. Eventually she'd catch onto his little interference running and she'd either put a stop to it or get around it. And he did want her for bloody sakes. Despite the age difference and the fact that he'd be outright screwing his brother over, he wanted the fantastic woman he'd spent the last year chatting up about every subject under the sun. He wanted the sexy dragon keeper who got him laughing on his bad days and expanded his mind with her little bits of trivia that she tossed out randomly. And he wanted to know what the freckle on her shoulder tasted like and to run his coarse fingers through her soft hair as she arched up into him. He sighed, tired. Of drinking, avoiding, dreaming of the non-existent. Rising from his seat, he tossed some coins on the table and muttered his goodbyes as he left the pub._

_The walk back was cold and lonely, leaving him with nothing but his dour thoughts. He tried to boost himself into telling her, into admitting that he wanted more. By the time he got to her tent, he was seventy-five percent sure he could get the words out before she could even put a knowing, pitying hand on his shoulder. He entered her tent without making any noise to let her know he was there. His mouth opened to spill all that needed to be said, but he found her curled up in her orange threadbare chair, a large book laying forgotten on her chest. She was fast asleep, her lashes brushing against her soft, pink tinged cheeks. Charlie carefully moved her book and slipped his arms under limp body, her legs were high up in the air from the angle and her neck was sitting at what looked like a very uncomfortable angle. She fit against his chest and in his arms perfectly, molding against him and turning her sleepy head against his shoulder. He heard a soft sigh escape her lips and smiled lightly. Walking to her bed, he laid her down and pulled the blankets up around her carefully, tucking her in. She rolled onto her side, her bare arm reaching out beside her, as if searching for something to wrap around. Charlie bit his lip, wishing he could be there beside her, her arm wrapped tight around his waist. Instead he sighed, leaning down to press a kiss against her temple, murmuring goodnight before he left her tent for his own empty one, three down where a cold bed was waiting for him._

The sun was becoming more prominent outside and he knew that it would wake her up soon. For a selfish moment he considered casting a charm on the flap of the tent to keep it out so he could bask in her a little longer, but he remembered the last time he had done that she had woken up in a frenzy and frowned at him most of the morning. That and the reserve kept giving them knowing looks that just made Hermione more annoyed. He was lucky that the dragon they were scheduled to be watching over that morning woke up late, too, otherwise they could have been in deep dragon dung. Still though, it was tempting to ignore the rules for another hour and just hold her. She smelled sweet, despite the raw heat that was making sweat break out on both of them. She shifted, her nose wrinkling in the way that told him she was nearly awake now. Her arm moved, fingers trailing across his torso to graze his abs, making his stomach tighten and his teeth dig into his lip. His hand slipped up her back to trace her bare shoulder, wrapping a stray tangled curl around his finger. Eleven months had passed in their relationship and it still felt like the first time he'd kissed her some days. Sweet, warm, intoxicating.

_Charlie's leg was bugging him more than ever. He'd spent the majority of the day chasing down an escaped Common Welsh Dragon as it terrorized a nearby town, searching for sheep to stave its appetite. He hadn't had time to grab his broom, having to go on foot over the rocky hills with Hermione, Jonas, and Crystal hot on his trail. It was a younger dragon, unable to stay up in the air for too long, but very able to breathe narrow jets of fire and chew three sheep while rampaging through fields. Using levitating charms, Hermione and Crystal had managed to get both Charlie and Jonas on Robert's back. Hermione chose the name, stating that he had the chin of a Robert. Charlie still held strong that he didn't really have a chin at all. Using long learned tricks, they managed to get the reins in Robert's mouth and hunkered down on his back to angle him toward the reserve. After a three hour struggle, they managed to get him home and things went back to as normal as they could be at a dragon reserve._

_Now Charlie was left pacing incessantly, wishing he had called out for Hermione or asked her to stay earlier when she told him his leg would probably bug him. He hadn't wanted to appear weak though, and he sometimes disliked the fact that he had an injury that she knew about. He grit his teeth, shaking his head and hopping on one leg. He began stating random facts he'd heard Hermione saying earlier, hoping to take his mind off the pain. "One of the twelve uses of dragons blood is oven cleaner... Famous vampire, Blodwyn Budd, is best known for singing to his victims... The Jobberknoll makes no sound until the moment of its death... It's impossible to apparate at Hogwarts... Creaothceann was played in Scotland during the Middle Ages, but was banned in 176-something because of a seriously high number of deaths..." Remembering her singing earlier, he grit his teeth and strangled out the lyrics, "Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone? It's left me for a spell..."_

"_Charlie," Hermione's voice interrupted him and he turned quickly to see her, his face strained and his shoulders tight. "Hey..." she said softly, her face twisted with concern. "I told you that your leg would be bothering you," she reminded, but there was no note of chastisement; just worry. She crossed the tent to him, dressed in one of his old jerseys and a pair of what looked to be his boxers. He pondered how she got those and then remembered that she'd brought their laundry down to the House Elves a few days prior and had it returned mixed together. In fact... he still had a pair of her knickers mixed in with his clean shirts. She ushered him over to his bed and he fell back with a thump. Hermione knelt in front of him, lifting his foot and placing it in the familiar position on her thigh, his toes brushing her stomach._

"_It's not that bad," he grit out, arching his back in pain when her fingers began probing the tight muscles of his calf._

"_Not that bad, hm?" she asked, and he just knew that she was cocking her brow at him._

"_It'll pass," he bit out, trying to lift his leg but not fighting her as she kept his foot pressed down on her thigh. He loathed being in such a pitiful position. He was strong. He'd always been strong. He had managed broken limbs, cracked ribs, burned skin over various parts of his body. He wrangled dragons, dodged fire, played Quidditch through storms, worked until his body was crying for relief. He was an able twenty-seven year old man. He did **not** whine about old leg injuries that really weren't as bad as she thought they were. "FUCK!" he cursed when her fingers hit a severely sensitive nerve._

"_Sorry," she said, one hand lifting to rub at the inside of his thigh to calm him. Unfortunately it wasn't quite as comforting as it might have been. He bit his lip to stop the moan aching in his throat, though he did forget for a moment that his leg had previously felt as if she were jabbing a large blade through it. She really shouldn't tempt him that way. Didn't she know how hard it was not to take her into his arms and snog her senseless? Any man would react to a woman's hand on his thigh in a less than friendly way. Especially the way she was rubbing it. Caressing it, really. Her hands were soft, with a few callouses around the palm, enough to entice his skin into reaction. He shuddered, his eyes rolling back for a moment. "Are you cold?" she asked him, her hand stopping against his thigh. He managed to shake his head and she squeezed his upper leg before going back down to take care of his calf. Charlie decided he was either the most cursed man alive or the most blessed._

"_Isn't there something magical that I can do to get it to stop?" he asked her, lifting up on to lean on his arms and watch her as she lightly felt around his leg, finding the corded muscles as they tightened and tore at his body. "To permanently keep it from happening again?" He worked his jaw against the pain, desperate not to scream at how much it hurt. She wouldn't think bad of him if he cried, but damn he didn't want her to see that._

"_I've been looking, researching everywhere. I had Harry send me a few books on it, but there's nothing, Charlie. That curse Nott hit you with, it wasn't well known. In fact, there's no past on it. I think he may have made it up himself. You're lucky the Healers were able to stop it as best they could or you might've been in this kind of pain all the time. At least now all you have to worry about is the odd attack every once in awhile. And as soon as you get over this obsession you have with pretending this isn't happening, your life will become a lot easier."_

_Charlie snorted, watching her knuckles knead his leg, fingers curling and hand massaging with a knowledge of his injury only the two of them would have. How many times had she been in this same position, taking care of him and pressing the pain away? She pulled out a jar of her goo, he'd never asked where it came from but he was fairly sure it was one of her own concoctions. While still rubbing with one hand, she dipped the other in the jar and pulled out a glob to smooth over his leg slowly. It was cold and mildly uncomfortable, just like always. It took a few seconds, the sting of the cold causing his muscles to bunch up even tighter for a second. Her hand rubbed at the inside of his thigh again and he wasn't sure which he was reacting to when he groaned and arched his back, the pain or the pleasure._

_He watched her as the agony slowly began to evaporate. The way her brow furrowed as she concentrated solely on making him feel better. He could feel the drowsy effects of the paste effecting his senses, but he pushed it away. It was almost better than liquid courage, it loosened his tongue and he forgot all about pretending he wasn't always watching her. He forget to act as though she wasn't the most interesting part of his life, the most beautiful woman he'd ever set eyes on, the sole reason his mouth felt as if it were always grinning. His heart skipped a beat as she blew on his leg, making part of his leg tingle. She'd call it a reaction to the effects of the paste, but his heart skipped so much around her that there was no point in blaming it on anything except his affections._

_He sat up, his arms settling on his knees as he looked down on her, fingers green and covered in the salve. She looked up at him, a tendril of brown hair falling over her face and catching on her nose. She blew it off and he felt her breath against his chin. He swallowed thickly, staring down into her warm brown eyes. He could feel her hands on his legs, fingers pressing deep into his flesh, lightly calloused palms rubbing into his slowly loosening muscles. There was a rather piney smell to the salve that he hadn't much noticed before. He could see one of her sugarless sweets in her mouth, pressing against the side of her cheek. He reached out, his finger tracing the outline of the candy. Her cheek was soft and supple beneath his calloused fingers. It wasn't the first time he'd felt her face, he had a long-time habit of cupping her head when he wanted to get her attention and keep it solely on him. He usually held her chin, fingers caressing her cheeks, or wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, fingers woven in her hair. Sometimes though, his palm wrapped around her cheek and he'd see her pupils dilate and her brows lift, as if she expected him to lean in and kiss her. He wanted to, Merlin he did, but he never tried. He cursed himself for always chickening out, but she looked so sweet all those times, so innocent and unknowing of his desire. And he really didn't want to hear her say, "Oh, Charlie, you know you're like the brother I've always looked up to," or some heartbreaking dragon dung like that. He wasn't sure he could take that._

_Now though, she was looking up at him, her eyes a little wide, her lips parted, her breathing a little shallow. Her fingers were slowing, her attention waning from his leg and focusing on his face. He wanted to say something, to tell her she should back off if she didn't want him to kiss her. But at the same time, he didn't want to give her the chance to back away. He wanted just one kiss, even if he'd never get it again. Just one. He needed to taste her. To feel her lips on his, and he did. He leaned forward, pushing all the nasty fears and screaming apprehensions out of his head. His head was swimming with relaxing salve reactions and she looked so tasty. Her lips cradled his perfectly, warm and moist. His hand slipped into her hair, soft curls brushing against the back of his wrist, fingers curling around the back of her neck. He pulled her close, eyes falling shut, breath picking up and letting out a soft gasp of shocking delight. His tongue peeked out, reaching for hers, finding the sweet flavor of her sugarless candy and her pink tongue. She'd recently brushed her teeth and washed her hair, he could taste the mint, smell the light scent of coconut. She'd put lotion on her body too, he could smell it on her neck, a light fragrance of berries._

_Her hands weren't on his leg, but they were dangling in the air, still covered in goo. He broke apart from her mouth to mutter, "**Evanesco**," to get rid of it and then her hands were wrapped around his shoulders, fingers digging in, bringing him closer. He nipped at her top lip, tongue running over it a moment later. Her eyes fluttered open and then closed, as if she wasn't sure it was really happening and she was making sure she was awake and he was there. Their noses bumped and he smiled into her mouth, teeth lightly claiming her bottom lip and tugging it as he pulled her up from the floor and into his lap. Her body pressed into his and he let out a low groan of approval. She fit perfectly, thighs against his sides, legs curled outside of his, arms moving to circle his neck and shoulders. She arched up, her chest pressing into him and her head falling back, revealing her long neck to him._

_Charlie kissed down her chin and slowly trailed across her throat. His tongue peeked out to taste her skin, teeth gently nipping at her. One hand settled on the small of her back, keeping her close, while the other still sat tangled at the nape of her neck, fingers caressing her skin and wrapping in her soft hair. "There's... There's a relaxant in the salve," she told him, her voice husky and deep. "And ginger w-which sometimes causes a p-person to lose control of their inhibitions." She let out a soft mewl of satisfaction as he enjoyed her clavicle, teeth grazing, tongue laving. "It's a new batch, I might've a-added too much."_

_Charlie shook his head, fingers kneading at her back as if to bring her closer, to melt into her, to have all of her. "Want you," he told her, hand slipping beneath the large jersey to feel her back, soft and warm. "Long time." He considered a joke about a caveman and how he was acting, but her skin tasted too good to be away from for too long. Not to mention the fact that he was waiting for the moment where she'd push him away and tell him it was all wrong and she couldn't do it. He wanted to enjoy her as much as he could before she broke his heart._

"_There's also a little bit of lovage in it," she continued, her legs moving to wrap around his waist, legs tight and lap pressing down into him hard. "It's a culinary and medicinal herb from the carrot family, o-often used in Confusing and Befud-Befuddlement Charms," she muttered, letting out a long sigh as Charlie tugged the shoulder of the jersey down her arm to trail his mouth over her skin. He found the freckle that occupied his attention whenever she wore her tank tops and he wrapped his lips around it. He could hardly believe it was all happening and rather wondered if maybe he'd just fallen asleep while she was massaging his leg. Charlie's hand fell from her back to wrap around her bottom. "Ow! Charlie, did you just pinch my arse?" she asked, lifting her head to look down at him._

_He smiled crookedly at her, "Just making sure I'm not dreaming," he told her, kissing down her arm and then back up, half-smirking._

"_I think you're supposed to pinch _yourself_ for that," she told him with a roll of her eyes._

_Charlie shrugged, arm wrapping tight around her back. "Point is, I'm not dreaming. And it's not anything you put in the salve." He swallowed, the relaxant from the lotion was wearing off on his senses, not only paralyzing the pain in his leg. His courage was waning and he didn't want her to walk away thinking he'd been high on her pain relief paste. "I-- I've liked you for awhile," he managed, his eyes staring out past her shoulder. "A long while." He shook his head, closing his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. Swallowing, he kissed the side of her neck, there was a possibility that everything she said about the potion was affecting her. The lovage could have befuddled her, she was close enough to inhale the salve while she rubbed his leg. It made sense. She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, he cut her off, deciding he didn't want to go down without a fight. He was a Weasley, a former Gryffindor, a man who kept dragons for Merlin's sakes. He could charm a girl. _The_ girl, he reminded._

"_You've been my best mate for over a year and I guess I've been a little thick headed, because I only recently noticed that you smell incredible," he told her, slowly kissing up her neck. "In the last couple months I've been seeing things I hadn't thought much on before. Like how your laugh sounds when you're really happy, or how your smile makes your eyes glitter." He nipped at her throat, laving at it with his tongue a second later and enjoying the intake of breath that she took in its wake. "I love how you talk to Lucy when you feed her, as if she understands everything you're saying and can somehow relate. Or how you tell Robert random facts you read in Hogwarts: A History when you're trying to calm him down from one of his teething fits." He ran his hand through her hair, fingers threading through the light curls and trying to memorize the feel for future reference. "I like it when you wake me up by smacking me with one of your books. I'm a bit of a heavy sleeper, but it gets me up like nothing else. And it's driving me nuts just how much I think of you. You're in my every thought so much that it's a wonder I manage through the day." He kissed the length of her jaw, from ear to ear, settling in the middle of her chin. "Right now, I love how you feel in my arms and how your taste lingers in my mouth. I love how soft your hair is in my hand and how your body is trembling right now, because I've wanted to make you do that for so long." He shook his head, his lips brushing her chin, "I want you Hermione. I don't want to be your friend or like a brother. I want to love every inch of you," he whispered, eyes staring at her lips, afraid to see what her eyes might be saying back._

"_Charlie," she whispered, his eyes watching as her lips formed the letters to his name, tongue passing by his eyes._

_Slowly, he moved his eyes from her mouth, following the length of her nose, counting the five tiny freckles occupying the bridge before he met her gaze. Her eyes were soft, slightly shiny as if she were ready to cry. Her lashes were damp, dark and beautiful. He loved her and for one sharp, clear moment, he was shocked at how love felt. There were a number of women before her, women who were sexy and confident. Women who exuded challenge and femininity. Women who had a talent for kissing or shagging or speaking various languages. But they never met her intelligence, never held a candle to her beauty, and could never hold his heart like Hermione did. She had a gentleness to her that he'd seen first hand when the Hungarian Horntail baby, Keleman, got sick just a few days after hatching and his mother wouldn't take care of him. He'd watched her try to nurse the tiny dragon back to health in the cover of her tent, hidden from his mother and the other keepers. Listened to her sing Celestina Warbeck off key and rub rum on his gums as he cried out of hunger and sickness. He held her when she cried because all of her work hadn't paid off and knew that though the experience had hurt her, she'd do it all over again for the next dragon baby left to its own death. He'd seen her courage, not only in war, but up against the heat and anger of a fully aged Chinese Fireball. She was it for him, he knew. Nobody could quite make it to the height that she had in his head. Nobody could stand next to her and measure up. And he was prepared to do all that it took to make her see it his way. He'd stand in front of a hundred dragons, those still raw and vicious from being free over the world. He'd face them all and bite back the screams of his aching leg in the end if it meant he could hold her a little longer, kiss her lips just once more._

_She leaned toward him, lips just a hair's breath from his. She whispered the sweetest words he'd ever heard in his life, "I want you, too." It was soft, breathy, and he wanted to hear it all again just so he could feel the shiver run down his back once more. He swallowed, rather disbelieving. He blinked at her, shocked and uncertain. She laughed, light and airy, before kissing him, hard and passionate. He lost himself then, eyes falling shut, mind shutting down. Perhaps standing in front of a hundred dragons could be put off until later, he'd much rather enjoy the moment. He let out a happy sigh as her fingers threaded into his short hair, tugging lightly, and short nails grazing against his skin. Yeah, the dragons could wait._

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione wondered, her voice breaking into his thoughts.

"Huh?" he asked, turning down to look at her. She was sexy when she was sleepy, her eyes half lidded and a smile caught between her yawning mouth. Her fingers were drawing misshapen circles over his abdomen, dipping into his bellybutton and then continuing on in a way that had him seriously considering lying to her and telling her it was still very early and they needn't worry about going to work just yet. She chuckled, obviously gauging his face and knowing what he was thinking. She climbed up the bed, bare legs brushing against him before she settled on top him, laying her chin on his chest. The sheet dipped low, barely covering her arse as she lay cuddled against him. His arms lifted, wrapping lightly around her back and fingers grazing her skin in a slow, tickling fashion. Nearly a year had passed since that day when he gathered the courage to tell her how much he wanted her and he'd basked in the perfection of having her always. The rest of the reserve wasn't that surprised and he rolled his eyes when Jonas shouted, "_Finally_!" as they walked into the mess hall the next morning for breakfast, hands clasped together.

Eleven months later and he still couldn't get over the fact that she actually wanted him back. Each morning he woke up, in his tent or hers, and she was right there, warm against his side, hair sprawled out, softly slumbering with him. The only difference in their relationship was now he got to touch her and tell her all the naughty thoughts he'd been having. They were still close, still spent their days working together and their nights playing Exploding Snap, reading from her various tomes, or just talking. He'd snuck off the week before to pick up a ring. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with it, never having ever had the desire to buy one for a woman. He knew he wanted her for much longer than any of his other relationships. She made his days, his life, more complete. He knew he was completely besotted with her and despite the fact that he always made fun of Bill for acting the same with Fleur, he was beginning to understand why. Charlie wasn't one for sweet words or long speeches about what she meant to him. Besides the first time he'd finally got all of his feelings out, in a way he was pretty sure could have been a lot more eloquent, he'd reverted back to his usual self. She didn't want flowery words and big gestures. She liked cuddling in her orange armchair, reading books about dragon lore and various other interesting subjects. She enjoyed sharing a butterbeer down at Scales, convincing him to dance with her every once in awhile, and spending most of her days checking in on the baby dragons and reigning in the ornery ones.

They still hadn't told their family they were together. Charlie knew the minute his mum found out she'd blow it out of proportion. They hadn't talked about marriage, though Charlie knew it was what he wanted. He wouldn't have bought the ring otherwise. He knew Hermione loved him, heard her whisper it to him when she thought he was sleeping after they made love. They said it to each other but it often felt out of place while working or hanging around the other keepers. It was kept in the quiet of their tents, in the comfort of their beds, in the whispers of the night. She knew he loved her, everybody knew he loved her. He spelled it out on her skin when he kissed her, caressed her, loved her into exhaustion. Despite the fact that the reserve thought they were the perfect couple, that his brother Bill had been smirking knowingly from the beginning, Charlie wasn't sure how the rest of their family and friends would take it. He was fairly certain that Ron still had some lingering feelings or that he'd at least be overprotective of her. Ever since the war, he and Harry had been checking up on her regularly. No more than three days would pass before Hermione would receive a letter from one or both of them. She thought it was rather funny how she wanted them to write more when they were in Hogwarts and now she couldn't get a moments peace without an owl flying in with something else for them to say. They didn't have much to share really, just wanted to know what she was doing, how she was feeling, if she was all right.

Charlie could understand that, he had an ongoing concern about her health himself. She'd been rather sick lately, her stomach had been acting up the last couple weeks. She hadn't gone to Tanya because she was sure it was just a bug. Being the most intelligent witch of her age, Charlie didn't doubt that she could take care of herself, he just worried sometimes. It felt odd to be worrying about anybody who wasn't a Weasley. To concern himself with somebody else's life and try and help them with whatever was going on. Hermione's life was very much linked with his though, them being partners at work and spending most of their time in each others arms. They'd had their share of fights, mostly having to do with how to tell their family they were together. They both wanted them to know, they were just worried about whether it would interrupt what they had. If they were to get married, he didn't want his mum taking it over like she had with the others. Bill's wedding had been all but planned by Molly and then Fred's marriage to Angelina a year prior and George's engagement to Alicia a few months before had Charlie worried about what might happen if he admitted that he saw forever with Hermione.

The Weasleys and Harry only recently found out they were dating, they just didn't know who. Hermione had finally told them that she was seeing somebody and so had Charlie, because his mother wouldn't stop trying to set them up with people. The regular Weasley family dinner became a way for Molly to try and inform them of all the nice ladies and chaps that would just _love_ to date one of them. Harry was currently dating Luna Lovegood, an odd but efficient Auror, and Ron was on-and-off again with Parvati Patil, a rather giggly reporter for Witch Weekly. Molly immediately began questioning them on what their significant others were like and unfortunately had to do it in front of the entire family as she set the table for dinner.

"_Well, Charlie what's she like?" his mother inquired, setting a large bowl of salad on the table. The whole family had filled the dining room, everybody managing to get away from work and outside commitments to gather for Molly Weasleys delicious cooking. Arthur sat at the head of the table, amused with his wife's immediate interest in her children's love lives. He was reading through a Muggle newspaper, fascinated with the Comics page. Each Weasley with their significant other and Harry and his girlfriend occupied the table. Charlie forced himself to sit across from Hermione rather than right beside her, which wasn't such a downside since her foot was currently sitting comfortably in his lap as he rubbed at the arch of it with one hand, thumb digging in and massaging. She looked comfortable and content until his mum started in on the inquisition._

"_Aw mum, don't starve us with leaves, where's the meat?" one of the twins teased._

"_Yeah, I'm witherin' away over here, woman," the other joined in, grinning._

"_Shut your mouths you two, let your brother speak," Molly told them, frowning as she turned to her second eldest boy imploringly._

_Charlie looked at Hermione and then around the table, suddenly feeling very suffocated as all eyes stared back at him. Bill looked amused as he sipped his butterbeer and lifted a challenging brow at Charlie, as if goading him to speak. "She's..." He swallowed, looking back at Hermione again and finding her softly blushing, her eyes diverted. "She's incredible. Funny, charming, easy-going, you know," he said, hoping it sounded less enraptured and more laid back._

"_Aww... sounds like our Charlie's in luuurrrrvvvveeee," one of the twins teased._

_Charlie rolled his eyes, shaking his head, but grinning down into his mug as he sipped his butterbeer. He knew he was. Happily so. Wouldn't have it any other way. But he wasn't about to share that. Not with his family, not just yet. The twins would never let it go, his mum would break out a wedding planner, Ginny would push to meet her to decide whether she was good enough. He just didn't want to put up with it. He'd much rather return to camp later that night and have his Hermione all to himself, no overwhelming family commitments hanging over their heads._

"_Hermione, dear, you would know Charlie's girlfriend, wouldn't you?" his mother pushed, turning to her. "Tell us more about her, since my son doesn't seem to want to share," she said, half-frowning at her son while simultaneously half-smiling encouragingly at Hermione._

"_Oh, well, er," she mumbled, looking from Charlie to his mum, uncomfortably. "Well, she's nice," she managed, nodding. "Smart, I suppose," she added, lightly shrugging._

"_Brilliant," Charlie corrected, trying not to smile._

_Hermione stared at him a moment, biting her lip before she returned her attention to Molly. "She loves the dragons, too. Works with the babies quite often and she's very able at controlling the older ones." She shifted in her seat, not quite sure what to tell Molly. "Um, well, she's--" It was rare for Charlie to see her so verbally challenged, rather amusing for him, too._

"_How's she look?" one of the twins called out, loud and teasing._

"_She a looker?" the other wondered._

_  
"Charlie only dates beauties," the first reminded, smirking widely._

"_Too true." A collective agreeance went around the table from all the boys. Charlie heard Harry mention a pretty blonde he'd met when he'd visited Hermione at the reserve once. The twins were bragging about various girls Charlie had dated at Hogwarts and a couple they'd met when they visited him early on at the colony. Even his father brought up a few of his former girlfriends, none of which met his mother. In fact, most of them hadn't really been _girlfriends_, per se. _

"_She's pretty, I guess," Hermione allowed, her face flushed and her shoulders slumping slightly._

"_She's gorgeous," Charlie told her, eyes firmly set on hers. "Completely ravishing."_

_Hermione bit her lip but Charlie could see she was trying not to smile._

"_Well, tell us how she is with him. Does she take care of him? Keep him from getting too bruised? My Charlie's always running into danger," Molly muttered affectionately, but not without a little chastisement._

_Hermione nodded, "She does her best. Cleans his wounds, watches his back, cleans up after him when he forgets to clean up around his tent," she told her, looking rather amused._

"_She's got great hands," Charlie said, smirking. "Very healing."_

_The men around the table snorted, laughing over Charlie's innuendo. Hermione gave him a rather withering glare, but her mouth was twitching with amusement. "What about your boyfriend then, 'Mione?" Bill wondered, half-smiling at her and his brother, a brow lifted._

"_Oh, yes, Hermione, do tell us about him," Molly said, looking delighted. "You never did tell us his name or how you met." They'd only admitted to being in relationships shortly before dinner, it wasn't as if either of them were given much time to say anything. They were both rather hoping Molly would just leave it as it was, though they had been acting rather thoughtlessly as Molly wasn't one to just ignore something like them both having a love interest._

"_He's a dragon keeper, too," she told them, clearing her throat and looking around rather anxiously. "He works with Charlie and me." She ran a hand over her hair, rubbing at her neck. "Met through work," she murmured._

"_Is he handsome then? Real rugged and strong?" Ginny asked her, half-smiling and winking at her. "All of those dragon keepers are quite muscular, wouldn't you say? Have to be if they're working with dragons all day. Lucky you, surrounded by such masculine men all day long," she murmured, sounding mildly dreamy but even more teasing._

"_You know you're right, Ginny," Parvati said, her eyes widening excitedly. "Hermione, d'you think you might give us an interview before you go. I bet my readers would just love to hear about all the tasty men over there. Dragon keepers," she said, lifting a brow with a smirk, "Our hottest spotlight yet!"_

_Charlie frowned, rolling his eyes upward before he looked over to see Hermione's bemused expression. She didn't even reply, acting as though she hadn't heard the question at all._

"_I'd read it," Ginny agreed, nodding._

"_Not planning on pickin' up a dragon keeper yourself, are ya Gin?" Ron asked rather suspiciously._

_Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "I'm quite happy with Neville, thank you," she told him somewhat snappishly. "So, Hermione, is he?"_

_Hermione looked over at Charlie who was grinning rather smug. "Well, he's built quite like Charlie, so... no, I suppose not," she said, smirking._

_The twins laughed, slapping their older brother on the shoulder._

_Charlie smiled at her, winking out of sight of everyone._

"_Tell us more then, dear," Molly asked, placing a large dish of ham and a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table before she settled into her seat. "Handsome, smart, interesting, what?" she asked, her brows high and her mouth set in a warm, inquisitive smile._

"_Yes, all of those things," Hermione told her, nodding as she looked over at Charlie. "And he is quite rugged and strong, too," she added, rolling her eyes. "He loves the dragons, treats them like they're his own."_

"_Oh, isn't this wonderful," Molly tittered, smiling with flushed cheeks. "So, how long have you two been dating them then?" she wondered._

_Without thinking, they both replied, "Nearly nine months." Their eyes caught and they looked around, hoping nobody thought anything of it._

"_Was that a peach cobbler I smelled earlier, mum?" Bill asked, catching everybody's attention._

"_Peach cobbler," Ron repeated, his eyes widening and his mouth, full of food, grinning. "I love your cobbler, mum. Did you really make it?"_

"_Yes, I did," Molly said, beaming out. "It's been awhile since I made one, wouldn't you say?" she asked, her attention wavering to that of her other sons. "Last time I made one I think it was that time you broke your arm at work, Ron," she said, her mouth shifting to that of a concerned frown. "How has work been, dear? You're looking a little beat up."_

_Charlie stared at Hermione who let out a soft sigh, her eyes connecting with his. They'd dodged a small bullet. It wouldn't have killed them to share their relationship, but they liked their privacy as it was. He rubbed her foot under the table, thumb flicking the sensitive part of her heel, smiling as she jumped in her seat. He watched as Harry queried if she was okay and she sat flushed, telling him she was fine. She frowned at Charlie disapprovingly, shifting her foot in his lap until he had to bite his lip from making a revealing sound. He slumped his shoulders forward, covering their actions from the others._

"_You all right, Charlie, sweetheart, you look a little peaky?" his mum asked, reaching out to touch him._

_He leaned back from her head, swallowing and nodding. "Fine, mum. Fine." He shot a look at Hermione, who was smirking as she sipped her butterbeer. He really did love her._

"You ready for the day then, love?" he asked her as she stretched out over his chest. He trailed the tip of his finger down the dip of her spine, stopping at the curve leading to her arse.

She nodded against him. "Mm hmm," she murmured, pressing a kiss against his bare chest.

Charlie ran his hands down her sides, resting them on the back of her thighs before he sat up, pulling her up with him so she was sitting in his lap. He kissed her throat before nuzzling her shoulder and resting his arms loosely around her waist. Her fingers threaded in his hair and she leaned forward into him, her bare body pressed comfortably against his, each angle fitting perfectly. He looked past the cover of her tangled hair to his dresser, where the box holding her ring sat. He'd ask her tonight, he decided, smiling as he inhaled the soft scent of her. Her fingers trailed down his back, pressing into his skin, pulling him closer. "I love you," he whispered against her hair, his hands found her hips, holding her close.

She pulled back a bit to see his face, a soft smile on her face. "I love you, too, Charlie," she told him, pressing a lingering kiss to his mouth, tongue slipping out to taste his lips. She leaned forward until her weight forced him onto his back on the bed. She chuckled lightly, thighs squeezing his sides. "We have a little time," she murmured, and Charlie smirked. He'd take a short breakfast if it meant she'd keep kissing him the way she was.

**To be continued...**


	2. Part Two: A Dragon Keeping Family

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_I reckon that you could write anyone with Hermione and have that incredible chemistry. I love that feeling of intense shiver whenever I read a particularly well-written sentence, you are fast becoming one of my favourite writers on It's amazing, I've been reading fanfiction for over 6 years solid and I only discover you these past few months? Incredible! I really love this pairing, the way you write it, it works so well. But in the world of all literary convention, Hermione will be getting her "big-hit" right before or after Charlie proposes right? It does make for good conflict I guess. Looking forward to the update!_" - **_sodabug_** of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to thefollowing reviewers**: _triquetraperson, ferretface92, Crystalized Heart (Mel), J-R-R13, Dizi 85, x-Lazart-x, someonehurtme, rachhulk, Coquetry, ginsensu, Jester08, shatteredtruth, FredWeasleyLover1126, Galleon-to-Galleon, tkdchick, katie-kinns queenprincessof..., Sarra's wildchild, Chaos Dragon, ALittleBitObsessive, Paprika, Jayy, I read not write, **broawaychick07, MsRisa, sodabug, bugaboo107 **(Cindy)**, mskiti (Tabi)**_ and_especially** Crimson Tears**_ and_** galloping-goose** (Zeus)._

**Warning**:_ scenes of a sexual nature and strong language._

_-_

_**Only In The World of Dragons**_

_Part Two – A Dragon Keeping Family_

Charlie sat at a table at the Scales Pub, his leg jumping nervously and his hand wrapped tight around a tankard of ale. He looked from his drink to Jonas as he lit up a fag and took a long drag, his brows high in mild surprise at what Charlie had just told him. "Yeh sure 'bout this, mate?" he asked around his cigarette.

Charlie sighed, frowning. "Shouldn't you be congratulating me? Psyching me up or something?" he wondered, shaking his head.

"Char, I've had three wives, yeh think I'm the poster boy fer encouragement when it comes teh lovelies and marriage? Bloody hell, I'm the opposite," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Look, 'Mione is the greatest bird I've ever met and we both know I've met some real _fascinatin'_ birds," he said with a lewd wink. "If I was still a marryin', hope-teh-settle-down type chap, I'd 'ave jumped that train back when she first got here. But I'm not and we all know that yeh and 'Mione were meant teh get yer shite tehgether and tie the bloody knot." He shrugged, inhaling heavily on his fag and then blowing it out in rings above his head. "I dunno what yeh want me teh say Char, yeh don't really need me teh tell yeh yer doin' the right thin', do yeh?" he asked knowingly.

"No," Charlie agreed, leaning back in his chair. "Am I supposed to be this nervous though? Fuck, I've never done this before. What if I'm jumping the wand? What if she's not interested in this shite yet?" he asked, rubbing a hand over the back of his hair anxiously.

Jonas laughed, shaking his head. "Mate, yeh've been together a year. She's put up with yeh when yeh get yerself burned up, gouged, fucked two ways from Sunday, and she still agrees to shag yeh senseless. I don' think she's goin' anywhere," he said, grinning. "Yeh said yerself she's yer best friend, she probably feels the same. Besides, my relationships with women may always fuck me over, but I know when a bird's in love and wantin' marriage. I can see it in their eyes, like a dragon about teh burn an extra hole through my arse," he said with exaggerated wariness. "Yer relationship is based on a lot more than most 'round here teh," he reminded, nodding sagely with a brow lifted. "Yer always talkin' and shite. There isn't just shaggin' goin' on in tha' tent. Tha' says somethin', I'm sure."

Charlie laughed, shaking his head at Jonas but smiling. His nerves were wearing down. He'd obviously gone to the wrong chap about marriage advice, but Jonas was always good for a laugh. "I just don't want to go in there and offer a ring for her to tell me that she wasn't looking for a future with me," he admitted, shaking his head, staring off to the side. "We haven't even told my family that we're together. Her best friends don't know she's with me."

"Was tha' her decision?" Jonas wondered, talking around the cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth.

"It was mutual," Charlie said, shaking his head. "We didn't want them throwing marriage in our faces or questioning why we were together. Bill's the only one who knows. We told mum that we were dating somebody, we just didn't tell her it was each other." He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Mate, there's only one thing yeh got teh ask yerself," Jonas said, leaning forward. "Ferget 'bout all tha' other shite. Ferget about parents, siblings, friends, and wha'ever ever'one else might think. Yeh just walk in teh the tent, Char, look at her and ask yerself one thing." He leaned back, nodding as he smiled knowingly. "Is she ferever?" he told him simply, a small shrug appearing.

Charlie stared at him a moment before nodding. He knocked back the last gulp in his tankard and dropped a few coins on the table. Grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, he acknowledged Jonas' wave before he left the Pub. The walk back to the reserve was quicker than he remembered. Since he was out of breath, he wondered if maybe he had begun running halfway there. He stopped at his tent, searching through his dresser to find the little red velvet box and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. Looking in the mirror to make sure he was a shade of presentable, he ran his fingers through his hair and stared into his own green eyes. "Is she forever?" he asked himself, his voice quiet.

Swallowing, he turned and walked three tents down to find hers. He paced outside of it for a moment, trying to get his twisted stomach under control. Licking his lips, he tried to remember what he was going to say. He had planned it out, even wrote it down a few times. He tried to memorize something timeless, something that would make her weep happily, something she could tell the family that would have them all 'awwing,' how women like. He pushed the flap of the tent door open and walked in, his boots sounding heavy to him against the ground. She was laying on her bed, one of his jerseys hanging to the middle of her thighs, her legs up in the air and crossed at the ankle. She had a thick tome open in front of her and her hair was pulled up in a messy knot atop her head. He felt all the air leave his chest and his stomach dropped out. Every word he'd memorized seemed to take a vacation from his head and he wasn't sure he would get anything out.

Walking across the room, he carefully kicked his boots off, hoping she wouldn't hear him. He was fairly sure his breathing was loud enough to wake the dragons halfway across the reserve. Candles sat on her bedside table, painting her in a faint, warm glow. Charlie pulled his coat off and slipped the ring from its case, putting it into his pants pocket. He took a deep breath, tried to calm his heart, and walked to her bed. Sliding a hand up her leg, he knelt down on the bed, crawling up towards her. The skin of her thigh was warm and soft and he shivered for a moment, wondering if he'd have forever to feel it. She lifted one of her hips, turning her head to look at him, a light smile on her face. He laid down beside her, before wrapping his hand around her thigh and pulling her close to him until he was able to roll over and have her weight pressing down from above. Her legs moved to cradle his sides, hips cradling his. Her hands found his, palms pressed together, fingers dancing against each other.

He reached out, pulling the knot of her hair loose before returning it to lay on the mattress, his hand moving to play with hers once more. Her dark, curled hair fell down, framing her face for him as he stared up into her warm brown eyes. _Is she forever?_ He let out a low breath, his heart slowing, his stomach settling, his body relaxing completely. He knew there were five freckles on the bridge of her nose. That she was ticklish right beneath her ribs and on a certain part of her heels. He knew that she loved it when he kissed her neck, that it made her mewl with satisfaction and her eyes flutter. He knew that her favorite book was now _From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide_. He knew that she hated scrambled eggs and the smell of coffee. That even though her hair was shorter, it still tangled easily. He knew her favorite time to make love was in the early hours of the morning, when it was still dark and the air had a chill to it. That she had a fascination with his hands, enjoyed running her fingers over each rough patch and kissing it when she was half asleep and exhausted. He knew that one of her biggest weaknesses was newly hatched dragons, that she had a picture of the first one she took care of, Keleman. That she sometimes cried when things got too overwhelming and she missed her parents. That she was a lightweight drinker and she liked to sing when drunk, off key and dancing completely off beat.

He knew that she worried about him constantly, that she was sure he was going to get himself seriously injured with the dragons for all of his tomfoolery. That despite the fact that she chastised his often reckless behavior, she still liked how exciting he could be. How he found adventure in the simplest of tasks. She loved his easy going attitude and the way he held her out of the blue, just so he could feel her in his arms. He knew that she made extra healing salves for every exotic injury because she was sure that he'd somehow manage to cause them to himself. He knew she loved his tattoo, despite saying it was rather tacky. And that she loved him more than any man before him, that she worshiped him as much he worshiped her. That she saw no fault in his lack of twelve O.W.Ls from Hogwarts or Headboy badge. That she enjoyed rugged, coarse, reckless Charlie Weasley, whether he worked more with his body than his mind. He knew all about her and he wanted to spend each day learning more. He wanted to spend forever researching her, mapping out her body, loving her wholly.

He untangled one of his hands from hers to slip it past the side of her face and into her hair. "You're beautiful," he told her, his face just a few inches from her. "All of you." She blushed, her eyes darkening and her mouth curving with a smile. "I love how you smell, taste, feel. I love you, Hermione," he breathed against her mouth, his mouth moving before his brain could catch up. "I know we never really talked about it and I guess I sort of expected it. I'm a Weasley after all and it's sort of what we do. It's just the way things happen. I didn't think it'd be me until I was older. Much older. And not as handsome," he said, snorting. "I'm bollixing this up," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Bollixing _what_ up?" Hermione asked, rubbing her thumb over his palm. She lifted a brow, inquiring but rather amused.

Charlie swallowed, letting his hand in her hair slip a little so his fingers could caress her cheek. She really was the most enchanting woman he'd ever met. "D'you know that sometimes you talk in your sleep?" he asked her, his eyes washing over her face, taking in every dip, turn, and curve. She shook her head, a rather surprised expression appearing. "Yeah, you sometimes talk about the dragons. Ask me if I've checked on Lucy or if I'm sure I locked Robert up tight." He sighed, chewing at the inside of his cheek as her foot rubbed the outside of his thigh soothingly. "Most of the time though, you ask me little things that don't really make sense. Like if the Hogwarts letters came or if I'm sure I locked the doors. Sometimes you wonder if I de-gnomed the garden or if Crookshanks has been fed." He let out a shaky breath, his mouth going dry. "And it reminds me of home, of mum and dad, and... and I want that with you, Hermione." Her breath caught and he stared up into her wide eyes. Charlie slipped his hand down into his pants pocket and then returned it to her face, his forefinger glinting with the small ring sitting near the end of it, a diamond winking out at her. Her eyes watered, but he wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. Her lips were trembling and her foot wasn't rubbing at his thigh anymore. He could still feel her hands in his, but her fingers weren't playing with his any longer.

He swallowed, hoping she wasn't going to tell him that she loved him but it just wasn't what she wanted. "I want forever with you," he told her, his voice near shaking. He shook his head, "I can't promise I won't mess up again or that I'll tone it down on the random acts of recklessness. I can't promise that I won't get burned again or that one of the dragons won't chew my arse off that you love so much. But I can promise to love you for the rest of our lives. To de-gnome the garden when you want me to. To lock all the doors in our house before we go to bed. To make sure Crookshanks is well fed, despite the fact that the little hairball enjoys using my gloves as chew toys." He trailed the tips of his fingers under her eye, wiping away the tears that escaped. "And I'll read the legends of the Greek Hydra dragons to our kids. I'll teach 'em not to copy their dad when he does something their mum doesn't approve of. And I'll even put off showing them how to fly until they're at least five, wouldn't want you to worry yourself sick over them." He winked, trying to appear confident when really his heart was beating loudly in his ears.

"Charlie," she said, her voice weak and teary.

"I know I'm probably not who you saw yourself settling down with," he said, shaking his head, worried that her reply wasn't what he wanted to hear. "I'm not as brilliant as you are and most of our conversations are dampened by my jokes and I use humor to get out of things that get too serious. But nobody could know you like I do, nobody could love you like I do. I... I'd give up dragons just to have you," he told her, his voice rather awed with his own realization. He stared up at her, his voice becoming shaky. "I've never done this and I told myself I'd never do it until I was completely sure. I don't want a wife because my mum wants it for me. I want a wife because I see her being you. I see you twenty, thirty, fifty years from now and I'm still completely in love with you. I still see myself wanting to kiss that freckle on your shoulder, or see your exasperated expression when I've gone and got myself injured again." He let out a breath, letting her hand go so he could trail his fingers up her arm, wrapping around her shoulder. "Marry me, Hermione. Make me the luckiest dragon keeper in the world."

She laughed, the sound both happy and choked with tears. "I love you, Charlie," she told him, leaning in to kiss him. Her lips pressed hard and deep, her tongue reaching out to find his. Her body smoothed into his, hands finding his hair and tugging lightly. Her eyes fell shut, tears still slipping out from beneath her damp, dark lashes. He wasn't sure if it was a yes or not, but he had high hopes. Her hands slipped down from his hair, reaching between their bodies as she lifted her hips from his. Her fingers undid the belt on his pants and then popped the button and pushed down the zipper. He lifted his hips off the bed as she pushed at his pants to get them down. He wiggled his legs around to kick them off while his hands trailed down her back, finding the end of the jersey at her parted thighs. He rolled it up slowly, his fingers tracing the warm skin of her legs and back. She hovered above him, her mouth never leaving his as her hands tugged his shirt up, fingernails grazing his skin. He was lost in her, his mind losing any outside interest. All there was was her. He was drowning in her scent, her feel, her mouth.

He managed to get the jersey off her, tossing it to the side and resting his hands on her ribs before she tugged the shirt over his head and down his arms. He lifted his hands long enough for her to get the shirt completely off and then replaced them on her skin and returning his mouth to hers after a quick and brief separation. Aside from a pair of red knickers, she was bare before him, her hair already a little mussed and her breasts brushing against his chest as she leaned over him. Her hands trailed down his torso, fingers curling to scratch down his skin, stopping at the top of his boxers. He dipped a hand low on her side, smoothing it over her hips and slipping his fingers beneath the rim of her knickers, rubbing at the top of her arse a moment before finally pushing them down her legs. She lifted herself up off him so he could better angle them down her until they were fully off. She finally broke away from his mouth, leaning back to sit in his lap, her hands splayed out on his chest. Her lips were bruised and her tongue peeked out to taste him on her mouth. Their chests were heaving from passion and a lack of air. His hands slid up her arms, rough fingers curling around soft skin. He could still see the diamond on his finger and he looked from it to her. "Is that a yes?" he finally asked, his heart lodged in his throat.

She smiled at him, nodding. "In the words of my future husband, it's a 'hell yes'." Charlie grinned taking the ring off his hand to slip onto her right ring finger. She stared down at him, a familiar darkening to her eyes before she leaned closer, nipping at his jaw. "I want you," she whispered, her hands sliding up his chest to his neck, the cold of her engagement ring feeling good against his skin.

She helped him out of his boxers and then settled on top of him, her hands clasping together with his as she sunk low and arched her back. She gasped as he filled her, he squeezed her hands, biting back a guttural moan. His stomach tightened, muscles clenching and the air all leaving his body. The glow of the candles made her even more beautiful, her hair taking on a golden shine. It enhanced her cheek bones and the curve of her mouth as she smiled. She rocked against him, slow and deep, one of her hands breaking away from his to run up the center of his body, curving around his neck as she leaned down and pressed a short, desirous kiss against his mouth. Her tongue peeked out to run across his lips before her teeth grasped the bottom one between them and she tugged it out a little. His free hand rose up her thigh, smoothing over her hips and tracing her side until it found her breast, adjusting to cup it. The air was somehow both cold and warm around them, heating his skin and then sending shivers over him. Perhaps it was more the sensations she was causing than the air, all he knew was that he was swimming in ecstasy.

Hermione's hair brushed his shoulders as she trailed kisses along his jaw, her tongue licking as she nipped. He turned his head to one side, biting his lip as she laved his face with her warm, plump lips. The cold metal of her necklace brushed against his chest, slow and delicate, making him shiver beneath her. He freed his other hand from hers, smoothing it up her arm and then down her back, resting it right above the curve of her arse, fingers pressing into her skin. His legs flexed and relaxed while his arms ached to pull her tighter. He wanted to roll them so she was beneath him, so he could be the doer rather than than the receiver. She bit his shoulder and his hand moved down to grasp her thigh before he couldn't take it any longer, turning them over in one quick movement. She laughed, low and husky. He sunk deep into her, grinning as she let out a low mewl of satisfaction. She was his, he thought possessively. All his. Her body, her heart, her love. He had all of her, he'd always have all of her. It was calming against the race of his heart, the heat of his pulse zinging through his body. She would be his wife; to have, to hold, to kiss and taste, to love. He arched his back so he could kiss her torso, starting at her bellybutton and covering every inch until he met her clavicles. She was breathing heavily, her hands wrapped tight around the flexed muscles of his biceps. Her eyes were half-lidded, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. Her hair lay around her in a messy mass, tangled and shiny from the candlelight and the sweat gathering on her skin.

They found a rhythm, rocking and arching, hips meeting in a synchronized dance that always felt more incredible than the last. Her skin was damp, heated and salty. Her fingers dug into his skin, pulling him closer, urging him forward. The sounds she made were deep, intoxicated, lovingly erotic. He felt his own hair matted down against his neck, slick with sweat and heat. She was so small compared to him, so delicate and feminine compared to the muscular sculpt and angles of him. She fit against him, soft in some places, hard in others. Her stomach was flat and tanned, her arms strong and unwavering as they wrapped around him. Her mouth was moist and responsive against him, his shoulders, his chest, his throat and his mouth. She never stopped touching, reaching, needing, and holding. She was constant, always there for him, caring for him. "Forever," he whispered against her shoulder, his pace picking up against her hips.

"Forever," she breathed against his throat, her fingers digging into his back, nails scratching against his skin. He could feel her heels on the back of his thighs, kneading and pushing, urging on. Would they have this years from now? Would he want her to this unimaginable height? Would her eyes still darken for him ten years in the future? Would her mouth still cup his just right, her tongue still taste sweet against his? "Charlie," she moaned, her voice hitching. Her hand fell to cup his cheek, bringing his face closer to hers so she could kiss him tenderly.

Their lips met, soft and warm, bruised and plump. His breathing was heavy, his lips never wanting to leave hers. He kept his eyes open, watching as her face tightened and relaxed with sensation and love. He could see the wink of her engagement ring out of the corner of his eye, her hand still pressed to his cheek, palm damp, fingers reaching out for his hair. He felt a coil in his stomach unfurl, a sensation spread from his toes to the top of his head, a tightening all around, an explosion of colours behind his eyes. His breath caught, his jaw tightened, his eyes watched her mouth drop open, her head tip back, her mouth create words that weren't escaping her lips. She gasped his name, loud and sweet to his ears. His hips continued rocking a few more times, his body slowing down to feel heavy and useless. Her legs loosened from around him, but her arms were tight around his shoulders, one hand rising up his back to wrap around his neck, holding his face close to hers. Her other hand slipped off his face and into his hair, fingers wrapping around the damp red hair strands.

He kissed her tenderly, his hands rubbing her sides, up and down, light and soothing. Her eyes fluttered up at him, mouth curved in a satisfied smile. She was beautiful, shiny and limp with completion, her eyes drowsy, her body relaxed. He leaned down, kissing her bellybutton and slowly trailing up the center of her body, over her throat, biting lightly at the end of her chin until he was hovering over her mouth. Her hands spread down his shoulders, sliding down his sides, fingers dipping over the flexing muscles of his back, resting above his arse. "Will you read to me when my eyes fail and I refuse to get glasses?" she asked him, her voice tinged with amused adoration. He nodded, kissing her lips lightly and watching her wiggle her head on the pillow until she was comfortable. "Will you tell our children to eat their peas even though _you_ hate them?" she wondered, a hand coming back up to smooth his hair off his forehead. He tipped his head, considering. She chuckled, lifting her head to kiss his chin. Her arms moved to wrap around his waist, hands clasping on the small of his back. Her face softened, eyes staring up at him with a warmth she reserved solely for him. "Will you love, honor, and protect me 'til death do us part, Charlie?" she whispered, tongue peeking to wet her lips.

"Beyond death," he promised, leaning in to kiss her deeply. He turned them to the side, worried that he might be crushing her with his weight. She threw her leg over his hip, pressing her body close to his and sighing against his mouth as they broke apart. She kissed his shoulder, her lips soft and sweet against his skin. He ran his hand up and down her back slowly, holding her close and letting his eyes fall shut. "You're really mine," he murmured rather disbelievingly in his tired state. She nudged him so he was laying on his back and rested her head on his chest, her hand cupping his side, fingers drawing shapes on his skin.

"I'm really yours," she told him, her breath sliding over his chest, making his skin tingle.

Charlie felt his heart slow to a regular beat, his body became sluggish and comfortable in the warmth of her bed. She leaned away from him long enough to grab her blanket and wrap them in it. Her bare body wrapped itself around him, soft and slick still. The air in the room had become chilly, making the sweat on his skin begin to evaporate and leaving him a little cold. He brought her closer, wanting to hold on to her for as long as he could before he drifted off. He'd had a long day, a long wait before he finally found her. The one. _His_ one. "I love you," he murmured sleepily, though he wasn't sure it came out coherently.

"I love you, too," she whispered, rubbing his ribs affectionately. Cuddled up, they slipped off into their dreams, a future waiting for them in the morning.

* * *

Nearly a week later, Hermione still had a stomach flu and they hadn't had time to discuss when and how they'd tell their family and friends. The reserve had gave a large cheer when Jonas pointed out the ring by holding Hermione's hand up and shouting, "_I told yeh so_!" Hermione blushed and Charlie shrugged good-naturedly, until Jonas asked for a congratulations kiss from the bride-to-be; then Charlie socked him in the arm, hard. Hermione wore her ring under her gloves, applying a sticking charm so it wouldn't accidentally come off. They both agreed that they didn't want the wedding to be a long affair, or extremely large. Just family and friends, a small ceremony, likely in the back of the Burrow. They discussed a guest list, including their good friends from the reserve and a few friends from their Hogwarts days. They discussed dates and where they wanted to honeymoon, Charlie's interest was piqued more by the time spent alone and after the ceremony than anything. He wanted to take her somewhere secluded and warm, where they could sit on a beach and swim naked in the clear waters. 

They had enough money put away for whatever they wanted, seeing as how their job was a dangerous one and paid well. They lived at the reserve and only paid for food and a small yearly rental fee for their tents. Money had been building up in their Gringotts accounts for some time and Charlie knew that if he really wanted to, he could already happily retire. He loved his work though and didn't give much thought to quitting. Hermione had agreed that she didn't want to leave the reserve for some time and if they wanted to start a family, they could always take up in the village nearby. There was a house up for sale down from the camp, large and comfortable looking. It needed a little "TLC" as Hermione called it and Charlie was good with his hands for the things their wands wouldn't fix. They knew one of Molly's first concerns would be how they were going to raise a family as dragon keepers, but they weren't interested in giving up their life's work. They'd find a way around it.

The regular Weasley family dinner was coming in three short days and they finally agreed it was time to share the good news. They knew there would be questions and confusion, but they didn't want to go on like how it was. There was no point in being together, in having a future with each other, if they were going to hide it from the people who meant so much to them. The reactions they were most worried about were his mother's, Ron's, and Harry's. Charlie wasn't sure how his mum would take it, if she'd bring up the age difference or think them too different. Then there was the fact that she would likely want to take over the wedding preparation and they wanted their wedding to be their own. Hermione was sure that her two best friends would eventually be happy for her, maybe even see the factor of her becoming a Weasley as a great starting point. They'd been writing her, wondering who her boyfriend was and wanting to know enough about him to look around and see if he had any known problems with the law. Hermione teased that they were going to turn detective on her and suss out who he was, but they respected her privacy enough not to randomly show up at the reserve or ask friends and coworkers questions about who she was seeing.

They didn't have to work until later that afternoon, so Charlie was lounging around her tent, waiting for her to get back from her check up with Tanya. Hermione had finally become fed up with her own potions doing nothing to quell her stomach and agreed to see the medi-witch about it. He was reading through one of her books, his leg jumping anxiously. He'd been there to hold her hair back when she was sick, to rub her back as she threw up her breakfast or lunch, whatever she'd had before her stomach took revenge. She felt fine outside of the random bouts of nausea so she wasn't sure what was causing it. It worried Charlie, if Hermione didn't know what it was then it couldn't be good, right? The most knowledgeable woman he'd ever met having no idea what she herself had was something to be concerned about. She found his worry rather sweet, sometimes amusing. She said he was more upset about it than she was. He wasn't used to concerning himself overly much with anybody but a Weasley. He found her interests and health were becoming his top priority however and it wasn't something that really bothered him. He liked having somebody to care about, to worry and fawn over. Not that felt he was doing much by holding her hair while she retched and telling jokes to lighten her mood. She seemed to appreciate it though. She cuddled up against him when it was over, nuzzling her head against his chest and relaxing into his arms as he ran his hand up and down her back soothingly.

He wasn't absorbing anything from the tome he was reading. The words flew past his eyes, none of them really catching and holding his attention. She'd been with Tanya for nearly an hour and he was considering going to the medi-tent to see if she was really okay. Somebody would come and get him if it was life threatening and she had to go to St. Mungo's, wouldn't they? Of course they would, he reassured himself. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he stood up and began pacing. Just as he was about to give in and go to the medi-tent, the flap of Hermione's tent opened and she stepped inside, her hands pressed to her stomach. He tried to calm down, tried to act like his nerves weren't getting the best of him and he wasn't anxious as hell to know she was completely healthy and just suffering from some stomach flu. She looked shell shocked, which only furthered his worry.

"Hermione," he said, his voice a little shaky, drawing her attention to him. "What's wrong, love?" he asked, reaching out and wrapping his hands around her arms. She moved closer to him, resting her cheek against his chest and closing her eyes. "Hermione," he repeated, now becoming more than a little worried. She sniffled shivered against him. He walked her toward the bed, sitting down and bringing her down into his lap. She cuddled up close, one of her arms moving to wrap around his back, holding him tight to her. "Your starting to scare me," he managed, his voice thick.

Her fingers pressed against his back before balling up his shirt in her fist and she nuzzled his chest with her face. She took a deep breath, moving in his lap so she could see him. Her dark eyes were littered with tears and rimmed red. She stared at him a moment, as if searching for something. Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against his, her arms moving to wrap around his shoulders, hands cupping his neck and threading in his hair. "I love you," she whispered, her voice shaky and her lips brushing his.

"I love you, too," he told her, his arms holding her close, his heart beating frantically against his chest. "What'd Tanya tell you?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

She pulled back from him, bringing one hand down from him to wipe at her face, which he could see was pale. "It's not a stomach bug," she told him, shaking her head. Charlie's heart plummeted, his fears causing his arms to shake around her, he tried to tighten the hold, hoping she couldn't feel it.

His brow furrowed and his mouth choked out, "Then what--"

"We're going to have a baby," she interrupted, her voice quiet and her eyes staring into his. Charlie's breath caught in his throat, his heart rising from the pit of his stomach to lodge in his throat. A baby? He didn't know what to say, what to ask, what to think. She nodded at him, her fingers caressing his neck. "I'm about nine weeks pregnant, which makes sense, because morning sickness generally starts after four weeks and I've been sick for--"

"A little over a month," Charlie got out, his tongue unfurling, his voice in awe. "Holy fuck," he muttered in shock.

"Language," she chastised absently before nodding. "Tanya wanted to talk about what was going to happen, what different stages there are," she paused before saying, "or alternatives if..."

Charlie's eyes shot up from her shoulder where he just now realized he was staring, at the spot where her freckle would be. Would his son or daughter have freckles? It was likely. He was covered in freckles, though there were so many it looked like a tan, combined with his actual tan, it looked as if he didn't have any freckles really. Would they have brown or red hair? Brown or green eyes? He didn't much care, he figured he'd love them if they had green hair and pink eyes. He was going to be a father. "I'm going to be a dad," he told her, laughter bubbling up in his throat. "And you're going to be..."

She nodded, a slow smile pulling at her mouth. "A mum," she said softly.

"Could Tanya tell if it was a boy or girl?" he asked, his hands rubbing at the small of her back and the curve of her sides. His baby was growing inside of her. _Their_ baby, he corrected. They were going to be parents. Would he be a good dad? Could he raise a child? He'd been telling Hermione all about what he would do and how he would be a good father, but was he really able? He'd been working with dragons for ten years, he wasn't the most fatherly figure. He got himself injured every few weeks, had more bites taken out of him that most retired dragon keepers. He lived on adrenaline, enjoyed the risk of his job. Was that a good thing for a father-to-be? And what about their jobs, the reserve? Would they have to move? Did she want to move? Did she even want to have the baby right now? She looked sick when she walked in, shocked and pale.

"I didn't ask. I think I know anyway, but..." Hermione told him, shaking her head. "I wanted to wait to be sure. See what you thought, if you wanted to... know," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"I do. I do want to know. I want to... to have this baby," he told her, nodding. He realized now that the paleness, the fear in her eyes, it had been out of what he might think. They'd only recently gotten engaged, they weren't planning for babies just yet. But that didn't mean it wasn't wanted. He laughed then, happy and still rather awed by it all. He found her mouth, kissing her desperately. He wanted to say something, to shout, to express the sudden euphoria taking over his body. He could taste one of her sugarless candies on her lips and he smiled against her mouth. His hand slipped from behind her back, caressing her stomach, slipping beneath her shirt to touch the flat of her belly. His thumb brushed beneath her bellybutton, it was growing inside her right now. How far along was she again? Nine weeks? That was over two months. That meant there was just seven months more before he was going to be holding a baby in his arms, before he would be a daddy. He decided that she hadn't cleaned her tent in awhile, there must be dust in the air, there was no other reason why his eyes would be watering.

She broke away from his mouth for air, her hands running through his hair. The colour was back in her face but he wasn't sure if their kissing had her flushed or she was just comforted by his attitude toward them having a child together. He wondered if all first time fathers were so ecstatic. If they generally wanted to shout and whoop and throw their fist in the air like they'd just won a Quidditch World cup. He had an overwhelming desire to talk to his father. Arthur had raised seven children, he had to have some kind of wisdom to pass on. His mother, too, though she'd be far too busy. This would be her first grandchild, he realized. Bill and Fleur were waiting a little while, wanting to get their careers more underway and establish themselves. Fred and Angelina had only recently married and weren't yet thinking about children, and George and Alicia had only been engaged a few months ago, so they didn't have their sights set on babies so much as honeymoons. His mood was dampened slightly by the fact that his parents didn't yet know that he and Hermione were dating, let alone engaged, never mind having a baby. Three days, he reminded himself, just three days and they'd all know.

"We should get to mess hall for an early lunch," she told him, resting her chin on his shoulder. Her arms were wrapped around his back, the flats of her hands running over his back slowly. He found himself rather drowsy and suddenly wanted to nap with her for awhile. Pregnant women napped a lot, didn't they? Lunch was important though, he had to make sure they were both eating. She was eating for two now, after all. She leaned back from him, her arms still sitting on his shoulders. "I talked to Trent before I came over," she said, referring to one of the reserve administrators. "He needs me to come in today, but he'll have a replacement for me tomorrow. It's policy at the reserve that pregnant women not work. Too dangerous or something," she said with an irritated roll of her eyes. "I'll be stuck in my tent for seven months, unfortunately." She pursed her lips, obviously nonplussed by the whole thing.

"You're working today," Charlie said, suddenly feeling very sick. "Is that smart? I mean I know we've been lucky these last nine weeks, but should you really risk it now that we know?" he asked, shaking his head. "I could ask Jonas to fill in, or—"

"Jonas is already working with Crystal. And don't even think of bringing up any of the other keepers, Charlie, it's almost lunch. Those of them who are off today have already left to do whatever it is they do on their days off. We only got this morning off because the sedative fed to Ian was more than usual and he won't be up until sometime after lunch, you know that." She rubbed his shoulders, leaning in to press her forehead against his. "It's only one day, I've managed so far. Don't worry, we'll be fine," she told him, kissing him softly.

He nodded, but he couldn't help but feel like they were doing something reckless and for once he wasn't the one up for it. She stood up from his lap, her hand rubbing at his neck before she turned and started looking for her work clothes. He watched from the bed, leaning back on his arms and enjoying the view. She stripped out of her shirt, which was really one of his old ones. He could see a tear in the sleeve, he remembered ripping it while jumping over a fence to get away from a guard krup in a field that him and Bill had run through when trying to get home before their mum found they snuck out. He hadn't worn it in some time, it would probably tear on him now. He had been younger, less stocky when he wore the shirt. It was still rather big on her, but it looked adorable nonetheless. She tossed it into the "lights" basket and pulled on her regular thick black shirt, skin tight to keep from hindering her. She shimmied out of her jeans, an old pair that she wore when lazing around. There were a few tears in the knees and the bottom cuff on her left pant leg was loose and thinned out from being dragged under her heel. Charlie found himself staring at her stomach, covered by her shirt now, flat and having no visual proof that she was pregnant. She pulled her pants up her legs and over her hips, covering the toned legs he loved running his hands over. He watched her lace up her boots before she put her gloves on and suddenly realized he'd never found the dragon keeper outfit more enticing than in that moment.

She pulled her hair up off her neck and tied it away with an elastic before crossing over to him and leaning down for a chaste kiss. "Come on 'daddy', let's have lunch," she coaxed.

Charlie grinned, sliding off the bed and taking her hand in his. He lifted it to his mouth, kissing the palm of it before he laced their fingers. He was feeling high on life, a grin permanently etched in his face. He transferred her hand to his far palm so he could wrap his arm around her. She was warm against his side and his hand pressed near her stomach, wanting to be close to the baby. He had so many questions milling around in his head and he just knew that she probably had just the book that would answer them all. But he wanted to talk to his dad about it. He wanted to sit down and listen to embarrassing stories from his childhood so he had something to look forward to. He wanted to know what he'd feel when he held his son or daughter for the first time. He kissed Hermione's temple, his happiness hitting a high equivalent to the first time she told him she loved him.

The mess hall was near empty, only a few keepers scattered here or there. Most of them were still working with the dragons out across the reserve or the others had gone into town or to visit family and friends. Charlie didn't want to let her go, but he was forced to when they picked up their food and sat down at one of the tables. She poked around at her salad, picking out the cherry tomatoes and putting them on his plate since she knew he loved them. He watched her meticulously drizzle the dressing over the leafy salad, only enough to leave a nice flavor, never enough to cover the taste of the lettuce and carrots, she used to tell him. He held firm that lettuce didn't have much of a taste to begin with. He watched her cut up her salad for easier eating, while his food sat forgotten. He was completely mesmerized by her every action, like a besotted fool.

"Will you stop?" she asked, chuckling as she looked up at him from her salad.

He cleared his throat, trying to act like he hadn't just been enraptured by her every move. "Stop what?"

"Watching me," she told him, rolling her eyes but smiling. "It's unnerving." She shifted in her seat before lifting a bite of salad to her mouth.

"I can't help it," he said with a shrug, leaning over to pick up his thick burger with one hand and pop a cherry tomato into his mouth.

"Well, try," she told him, sipping from her bottle of water. "People are going to notice."

"Not true," Charlie replied, shaking his head. "I stare at you all the time, it's natural."

Hermione snorted, lifting a brow. "Well, at least then your jaw isn't hanging low and your eyes aren't wide while you go from staring at my stomach to my face. It's obvious, Charlie," she told him, though there was a warm affection in her voice.

"I don't mind if everyone knows. In fact, I have no problem announcing it," he told her, moving as if to get out of his chair as if he were going to shout it to the mess hall.

"Charlie," she warned laughingly. "First of all, there are all of six people in this room right now, so you don't have that large of an audience. And second, I'd prefer it if the Weasley's and Harry knew before everyone else," she told him, her smile waning slightly. She bit her lip, "What if they think you're only marrying because..." she motioned to her stomach, her eyes falling.

"I asked you like a week ago," he told her, shaking his head as he reached across the table to take one of her hands. "I'll tell them that and if they don't believe me then we have two choices," he said, shrugging. She looked at him imploringly, forking another mouthful of salad into her mouth and licking the dressing off of her lip and staring up at him. He was momentarily distracted by the sight of her tongue, but then got his mind back on track. "Uh, right, we can either continue to tell them how it really happened and ignore their suspicious looks," he said, tipping his head, "Or, I could just kick the shite out of everybody who says any different," he finished, grinning. Hermione laughed, covering her mouth with the hand still holding her fork. Her eyes danced with amusement and he couldn't help but feel bolstered by the simple fact that he had made her happy. He was turning into a sap, he decided. Must be something in the food.

"We'll try your first suggestion," she told him, squeezing his hand before she dug into her salad again. "And if it doesn't work, we'll consider the second." She smiled at him as he chuckled and took a large bite from his burger. He dipped a chip in the glob of ketchup beside his plate and then held it out to her. She wrinkled her nose and leaned away. "You know I hate ketchup," she reminded, trying to hold his hand away from her mouth.

"Yeah, but I love it," he replied, shrugging.

"What sense does that make?" she wondered, lifting a brow.

Charlie got the fry close enough to smear the ketchup on her lips and she stopped, rather surprised. He leaned across the table, licking the red condiment from her lips and then taking them in a heated kiss. He nipped at her bottom lip before sitting back down and returning his attention to his meal. "Perfect sense," he told her, winking charmingly before eating a few fries.

Hours later, they were found finishing up with Robert after catching him before he narrowly managed to escape. Charlie wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they walked toward the next sheltered area where the baby dragons were housed. Hermione had an ongoing fascination with them and because Charlie was in such a good mood, he decided to join her rather than visit the new rowdy Ukrainian Ironbelly that Jonas and Crystal were currently trying to reign in. He watched Hermione's expression light up as she saw the medium sized Common Welsh Green dragons (each kind of dragon had their own separate keep for the hatchlings to stop from unnecessary deaths) rolling around on the ground, sometimes ramming at each other or breathing little puffs of fire. It was summer, so they'd been born months before and were growing quickly. Their scales were still penetrable, not yet strong enough to keep out most spells. Their claws weren't quite long, but they could take a good chunk of flesh out of someone. Their teeth were long and sharp, but few and far between as they were just now beginning to grow in permanently. Charlie smothered a laugh as Hermione narrowly missed one of the babies narrow jets of fire as it sneezed at her. She wasn't dissuaded however and crept closer to run her hand down its pale green and yellow scales, scratching it under its chin and cooing at it when it made a purring noise.

"Charlie, 'Mione," somebody shouted from the open doorway of the housing unit. Charlie turned to see a younger keeper, his hair singed on one side. "Jonas and Crystal couldn't keep the new dragon down. We need your help. Trent is callin' on all the keepers to lend a hand. Jonas is calling him Mammoth, he's completely outta control and gigantic. He's already knocked out the older Vipertooth, Vicky, and set the Ironbelly hatchling keep on fire," he told them, before turning around when he caught sight of another set of keepers.

"Come on, we should help," Hermione said, walking toward the door.

"Hermione," Charlie said hesitantly, "Maybe you should sit this one out."

She sighed, shaking her head at him. "Charlie, we've been through his," she told him, frowning. "There's no time to discuss this anyway. Trent called for all the keepers so when we're finished here, I probably won't even be needed around anymore, not with everybody returning to camp. So let's get this finished up and I promise I'll take that nap you've been begging me to take all afternoon."

He smiled, only mildly satisfied. He followed her out of the keep, his pace picking up as they saw the ornery Ukrainian Ironbelly roaring up into the sky. He was shooting off large bursts of fire; orange and red flame licking the gathering clouds. He was massive, metallic grey with glittering red eyes and huge talons. He'd been transferred in from the Transcarpathian Region, too much to handle, they said, and now Charlie knew why. There were three dragon keepers on his back, trying to get the reigns in his mouth. Unbreakable rope had been wrapped around the dragon's legs and torso, trying to pin it to the ground while the brave, or insane, keepers continued to try and muzzle it. Charlie turned when he heard Trent calling his and Hermione's names. He found the camp administrator holding one of the ropes and trying to bind it to the ground with a charm from his wand. Thirteen other keepers were doing the same but as quickly as the ropes were being stuck in, the spells were breaking against the force of the dragon.

"Get a bloody rope and help us stop the fuckin' lizard," Trent shouted at them, his face red with effort and anger, sweat falling from the heat of the atmosphere combined with the fire the Ironbelly just wouldn't stop spitting out.

Another keeper rounded them, tossing them both ropes and then moving on to pass more out to the arriving keepers. He and Hermione separated, taking up places that needed the most attention. Hermione stationed near Crystal, centered with the Ironbelly's stomach, while Charlie found Jonas up near the behemoth's mouth. He shot his rope off and smirked as it wrapped tight around the dragon's neck. He and Jonas yanked down simultaneously, pulling the long head down quick and rough. A loud growling roar escaped the dragon's mouth and it shot off a thick burst of fire as he fell rapidly toward the ground. Charlie watched as numerous ropes shot up in the air and wrapped around the beasts body, pulling tight and dragging him down toward the dirt ground. Keepers swarmed the area, each of them returning from wherever it was they had been. Out with family, visiting town, they all came in to reign in the new, ornery Ironbelly. It was a sight really, larger than most Charlie had seen in his life. He knew from his own research and Hermione's extensive knowledge on dragons that Ukrainian Ironbelly's were the largest of all dragons, but this one seemed to out measure all that he'd seen in his career.

"Pull the bastard down," Trent yelled at them, his voice almost drowned out by the dragons avoiding screams and growls. Its talons were digging into the dirt, pulling it up as it tried to get away. Its wings were pressed down against its scaled torso, tightly wound up with the ropes used when it first arrived. Luckily it hadn't broken out of them or the keepers would have had an even bigger problem. Its tail was pinned down too, ropes and charms keeping it stuck to the ground behind it.

Charlie glanced at Hermione to see her throwing another rope up, three behind her already charmed down and holding strong. Crystal was kneeling down, charming her own to the dirt when the dragon reared up and its tail got loose. Trent shouted for everyone to duck, but it was a moment too late. Three keepers, none of which Charlie recognized from afar were taken out quickly, the weight behind the Ironbelly's tail taking them down quick and easy. They were left on the ground, either dead or knocked out and the dragon quickly whipped its body up, pulling the charmed ropes free quickly. Numerous keepers were dragged up with the ropes, dangling high off the ground before they let go and risked running far enough away so they could use their wands to call the ropes back to their hands and try again. The Ironbelly was reacting quickly though, shaking its head around enough to tear the ropes from the keepers below its neck, holding it down. Charlie felt the rope burn out of his grasp, leaving his gloves torn up and smoking for a moment as the rope tore out of his hands.

The Ironbelly turned quickly, its tail rearing out to knock the other keepers down in hopes of escaping. Charlie could hear Trent barking out orders while he chased after the rope dragging across the ground. He stopped short when a loud, vicious snarl escaped the dragon above him and it turned its angry head down to spit fire at the keepers below. They all scattered, trying to shield themselves. Charlie cursed under his breath, his legs pumping beneath him as he hoped to hell he didn't get scorched. He turned to see where Hermione was, spotting her and Crystal levitating ropes back out toward the keepers still standing and out of the way of the shooting fire. She never gave up. He felt fear creep up his spine as he watched her, wanting more than anything to tell her to run and hide, to wait until it was all over. It wasn't right. She was pregnant, she shouldn't be trying to reign in a gigantic dragon as it lashed out.

"Charlie, get yer fuckin' head outta yer arse and hit the dirt," Jonas shouted near him before he felt a hand on his shoulder yank him down. He felt the heat of fire high above his head, had he been standing he'd no longer have the arse his fiancée loved so. He nodded at Jonas in thanks who just grunted before lifting himself up and turning to face the beast again as the fire stopped. The giant Ironbelly had turned its head back up and shot a thick gust of fire up at the sky which was now dark with clouds and threatening to rain. Charlie licked his lips, tugging at the collar of his suit, the heat was overwhelming.

"Fucking Ukrainians," Charlie heard Trent curse as he waved his fist in the air and shot a spell out at the ropes nearest him. "Bastards are taking their Scale Biter back!" Charlie shook his head at the term the administrator used for dragons that attacked their own and everything in their path. He could see Vicky the Vipertooth laid out behind the ornery dragon, roped up for safety's sake and moved out of the way so the keepers could work.

The Ironbelly wasn't taking the ropes with ease, it was thrashing around, its tail still loose and its head flying every which way to spit fire at them. The keepers on one side were keeping the dragon pinned to one spot but Hermione's side was struggling to keep out of the way of the Ironbelly's tail that kept sweeping out at them. Charlie joined Jonas back where they were, trying to tie down the dragons neck so he couldn't keep torching them. "Down!" Charlie heard again and turned slightly in time to see Hermione duck the first swipe but not the second. The talon on the end of the Ironbelly's tail caught her in the shoulder and ripped her up off the ground before coming to a sudden stop, making her rush forward through the air. Charlie cursed, turning with his arms out as if he thought he could catch her. In that moment, his heart stopped and his breath caught, terrified. Her arms wrapped around her stomach and Charlie angled his wand up to try and levitate her down, but the Ironbelly reared its head and the ropes flew forward, lashing at Charlie's back, making him fall forward. He breathed a sigh of relief as Crystal threw out a cushioning charm to ease Hermione's hit but her slowing charm wasn't as effective as she too was soon distracted by the dragon.

Charlie struggled to get up from the ground, his legs shaky beneath him as he began running to Hermione. "Charlie, fuck, get down!" Jonas screamed behind him and Charlie felt the weight of his friend hit his back, throwing him to the ground. A thick burst of fire flew out above him and Charlie fought against Jonas' body, seeing that the fire was headed straight for Hermione. When the flames let up there was still a covering of smoke keeping him from seeing if she was okay. Tears stung his eyes but he wasn't sure if it was from fear or the smoke. "Ger'off," he shouted at Jonas, crawling out from beneath him. He started running through the smoke, his arms waving as he looked for her.

"Charlie, 'Mione's tough, she'll handle herself," Jonas called to him.

Charlie shook his head. "She's pregnant," he told him, crouching low, trying to find her. "She's bloody pregnant, Jonas." He called out her name, careful where he stepped. How far was she when she landed? Did she get up?

"Oh shite," his friend muttered, looking back at the dragon and then following Charlie into the smoke. "What the bloody hell was she doin' out here then?" he shouted shaking his head in confusion and anger.

"It was her last day," Charlie explained, his voice shaky. His eyes squinted to see through the thick grey and black clouds around him that was slowly letting up. He felt the drizzle of rain beginning, cooling his skin and helping to clear up the smoke. "She told me she'd be fine, that she did this all the time and it was only one day. What could happen?" His throat was burning and this time he was sure it was because he wasn't finding her, rather than the thick clouds around him. He didn't want to think about what could have happened. "Help me find her," he asked, wiping his sweaty face with his arm. He could barely hear the roaring of the dragon in the background, his mind focused solely on getting to Hermione.

"Like I said, Char, she's a tough bird, she'll be okay," Jonas told him, crouching low and searching around. "Eh... I think... I think I see her."

"Where?" Charlie asked, feeling frantic.

"Over there, balled up," he said, pointing off toward a dark mound. "Yeh see her, Char?"

"Yeah," he breathed out before breaking into a run. He fell to his knees beside her and swallowed thickly when he could see blood pooling beneath her shoulder. Fire had burned through the back of her work shirt too, her flesh pink and seared. He was gagging, out of fear and worry. She wasn't moving, her eyes weren't open, and she was deathly pale. He reached out, brushing her hair off her cheek, smearing the blood of a cut across her chin over her skin. His eyes clouded and he mumbled something incoherently before turning to Jonas, "I can't stay. I-- I'm sorry... I've gotta get her to St. Mungo's."

"Nah, mate, I understand. Get outta here, get her help." Jonas rose from the ground, giving him a half-smile, grim with the circumstances. "Yeh gotta family teh take care of now, Char, tha's wha' matters." Charlie nodded at him and Jonas clapped his shoulder before sending a worried look down at Hermione and running back to help the other keepers.

Charlie turned back to Hermione, limp and curled into herself. He made a strangled, choked sound before he hauled her up into his arms, careful not to put pressure on her wound and burn. He could feel her blood soaking into his arm and chest and began running. He avoided the debris and fallen bodies of other keepers, unconscious or worse, he wasn't sure. He dodged out of the way as the Ironbelly swung its tale in a wide arc. He saw Trent and slowed when he got near him, but was waved past by the gruff older man who was holding three robes and shouting orders at various other men nearby.

Charlie ran through the maze of other housing units holding the caged and behaving dragons, legs pumping hard beneath him as he searched for the red and white medi-tent. The only sound he could hear was the rushing in his ears, the loud thump of his fearful heart. He felt like he'd running forever, that there was no help in sight. They'd been wrangling the dragon on the other side of the reserve and Charlie's eyes were searching frantically to no avail. He passed the keeper tents and kept running. Hermione felt weightless in his arms, like a feather able to taken away by the wind. His fingers latched onto her, fearing that she'd leave him in the time it took to get her to Tanya. He could see she was breathing, though shallowly, and his heart jumped with hope. She was the strongest witch he knew, she had to get through this. He looked from her face to her stomach to the area around him. He couldn't lose them, couldn't lose his family. Finally, Charlie spotted what he'd been looking for. Like a blinking sign, the red and white became a beacon and he ran toward it, his feet moving at an unimaginable speed. He came to a skidding halt inside the tent where Tanya was preparing for an influx of patients.

Charlie gasped out, "St. Mungo's, portkey."

Tanya turned sharply, her face paling as she looked down at Hermione. "Oh my," she murmured before rushing over to a cabinet and pulling out a sugarless candy wrapper. Charlie was too worried to notice the rather odd coincidence and took hold of it with his grimy, blood dampened hand.

There was a tug at his navel and he briefly worried that it might not be good for the baby. With Hermione bleeding out over him and her back burned badly, he wasn't overly concerned with "what if's" at the moment. He shouted for help, his voice strangled as he stared down at her small body, so tired and limp. She reminded him nothing of the vibrant woman she usually was. He kept murmuring for help, his voice quieting as he watched her lay in his arms unresponsive. He wanted to shake her, to tell her that he knew she shouldn't have helped, not after the news they got that morning. He wanted to see her open her eyes, to hear her laugh lightly and tell him it wasn't as bad as he thought it was. That he was overreacting and she was going to be fine in a couple days. That she had a salve back at the camp that would fix her up in no time. He needed her to look up at him, to tell him it was all going to be fine.

He was scared. So few times in his life had he ever really been scared. But in that moment, while the healers were taking her from his arms, talking in medical garble that he didn't understand at all, he felt his chest clench painfully. He was terrified. Completely stricken with the idea that he might lose her. Both her and their baby. His family was pale and unconscious before him, bleeding and burned. He let out a shuddering breath, suddenly feeling weak and incapable.

"_Will you love, honor, and protect me 'til death do us part, Charlie?_" she had asked him.

Kneeling on the cold hospital floor, covered in his fiancée's blood, his back pained from the lacerations of the unbreakable rope earlier, his legs thrumming from excessive use, his heart tearing out of his chest, Charlie Weasley cried.

* * *

**A/N** _Wow! I was actually quite surprised by how many reviews I got for the first chapter of this story. Being that Charlie/Hermione is not one of the bigger ships, I wasn't expecting much feedback! I'm so glad that you're enjoying it though and I hope this chapter has measured up, too._

_An update on my other stories:_

_I hope to be writing more to **A Family Affair** very soon. I'm currently writing the epilogue to this story, but when I'm finished I hope to start the next chapter to **AFA**._

_**Blood Is Thicker Than Tears** should have an update soon, also. That story is winding down here with only a handful or so of chapters left and I hope to be finishing it within the month._

_**Growing** has not been updated for a **very** long time, I know. I have **not** abandoned it, but for right now it's on hold. I want to write more to it, but I haven't had the drive to. I **will** though, I have no doubt about that! It's prequel, **Summer Haven**, should also be updated soon, if possible._

_**The Werewolf Tamer** will be updated today, as soon as I'm finished posting this chapter._

_**Secret Life** should be updated in about 5 days, giving it a weekly update._

_Thank you for reading. Please review, it's very appreciated.  
Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	3. Part Three: The Lost Dragon Keeper

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_Ooh, I had a feeling something bad was going to happen to Hermione as soon as the idea of her working her last day. The proposal scene, the words Charlie said to Hermione were so beautiful, it made me want to cry. So romantic! I do hope Hermione and the baby are fine, I don't Charlie to cry anymore. Your writing gets me so involved with the characters you portray, I'm looking forward to all the updates :)_" - _**MsRisa**_ of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _x-Lazart-x, J-R-R13, icantlivewithoutharrypotter, Dizi 85, Roxie Black, siriuslybrilliantbrunette, ShatteredTruth, ChildDevil04, Jayy, Coquetry, I read not write, Galleon-to-Galleon, Ellie Lupin, Jester08, Lee Swain, Celtic-Dragon-89, ginsensu, bethygirl94, pstibbons, **wasu, MsRisa, broadwaychick07, CraZYdUCKIE, mskiti**_ and _especially **PropterT, CrystalizedHeart **(Mel)_ and _**galloping-goose** (Zeus)_.

**Warning**: _Harsh language._

_-_

_**Only In The World of Dragons**_

_Part Three – The Lost Dragon Keeper_

Charlie was lost. There were healers moving past him, helping others, asking questions, knowingly avoiding the man in the middle of the floor. He'd quieted, his tears stopping and his body becoming rigid. He was numb, doing nothing but blinking and breathing. He didn't know what to do, what he could do. He just waited. It seemed like hours before a healer finally approached him, kneeling down with a sympathetic expression. "Mr. Charlie Weasley, is it?" she asked, her voice rather high, childlike, though she looked to be older than him. He nodded, his eyes barely moving to her. She looked weathered, her job had obviously affected her. There were dark marks beneath her eyes and crow's feet around her light blue gaze. Her mouth was pinched, like she was seeing something unpleasant. "Miss. Granger's records lists you as the decision maker concerning her health. Since her parents passed away and she has no other Wizarding family, she chose you for the position of a family member. If the additions made this morning are right then she and you are due to have a baby early next year, yeah?" Charlie nodded, blinking, trying to take it all in. He'd been a dad for a day and now he wasn't even sure if it was going to happen. He clenched his jaw against the onslaught of emotion. "I don't mean to bother you, Mr. Weasley, I understand that this must all be very hard, but I need you to come with me. There are questions, paperwork, that sort of thing." Charlie turned to her, his mouth opening, but he didn't have anything to really say. "I know," she said, nodding sagely. "Come along then, as soon as there's news, you'll get it," she said, rising from the floor.

Charlie pushed himself up from the floor, his cursed leg twinging slightly at the sudden use after being bent uncomfortably. He winced, before scowling and crossing his arms over his chest. He followed the nurse who motioned to him and then began walking quickly down a hallway. He felt haggard, grimy and tired, useless. He wasn't used to being so helpless, so out of his element. He dealt with dragons, with fire and scales, but never really dying loved ones. The last person he lost was Percy, over four years ago. He and his brother hadn't been the closest. Percy was the straight-laced, follow the rules meticulously, never question an adult, do more than needed on homework, dots all the I's, cross the T's type of guy and he didn't appreciate Charlie's love for danger and adrenaline. He thought dragons were a pointless affair, not something to be so interested in, nothing like law and politics. Despite the fact that Percy was stiff and often lifted his nose at Charlie's life, Charlie loved his brother. He remembered days when they were younger and Percy used to follow behind him, reminding him of all the bad things that could happen if he continued being reckless like he was. He could still hear Percy's nasally voice in his head when he teased a dragon or wrangled one of the lizards down from a fit. He could still see his brother adjusting his glasses and stiffening his posture as if to tell Charlie just what was wrong with his profession and how he could fix it. Four years later and it still hurt Charlie to remember a brother that he only saw at Weasley family dinners or holidays (if Percy could make it, that was). Perhaps it wasn't only the memory of his brother though, but also what happened after his brother was lost. What he did to avenge his brothers death held a heavy weight to it, dragging him down over the years.

How would he feel if the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with died? If his baby was killed because of the job they both loved so much? He remembered reading books on all sorts of dragons when he was kid. He had a fascination from a young age; of scales and fire, long tails and huge talons, of monstrous lizards that flew through the skies with grace and fury matching no other. He always imagined himself right there with them, basking in the heat of the reserve, of the fire spewing from their mouths. Sweat beading on his skin, ash and smoke surrounding him. He'd been a scrawny kid when he was younger, a little boy that always scraped his knees and fell out of trees, only to climb right back up them and do it all again. When he hit Hogwarts, he wasn't anything special. But when he found Quidditch, he changed that. He wanted to split the skies like his dragons did, so he worked himself, practiced with his broom at every spare moment, and before he knew it, he was the Gryffindor Seeker. He was flipping, arcing, traveling the winds, searching for a little piece of winged gold. He made Quidditch captain, won the Quidditch cup with his strategies and quick flying, and when it was all over, he was a whole new person. His height wasn't anywhere near Bill or the twins, or even Ron's now, but back then he was lean, strong and quick in the air. When he got the job at the reserve, he bulked up more, putting muscle on around his chest, building up his arms and legs. He needed to be fast, strong, able when it came to dragons. They were quick, manipulative of the air and their size. He wanted to control them, to have their power in his hands, to live alongside the dreams of a boy.

He'd had his share of mishaps with the dragons but he always got right back up, dusted off his hands and limped to the medi-tent with a grin. His mother always told him, "One day, Charlie Weasley! One day you are going to come home _unrecognizable_ from all this foolishness! You'll bother the wrong dragon and then what will we do, hm?" He had lumps of his skin missing in various areas, nothing disfiguring, but memories still imprinted. He had scars and burns that would never fully heal, but he kept on. He loved the smell of the reserve in the morning, the heat of it all around him, the hard work he put in each day. He loved the sound a dragon made when it roared, loud and growling, deep and attention grabbing. He was only satisfied when he'd worked his arse off surrounded by them, only happy when he knew he'd get to see another one the next day. They provided his adrenaline rush, staved the mechanism in him that begged for danger. If there weren't any dragons left, he'd be doing something just as reckless and death defying. It wasn't as if Harry and Ron's jobs as Aurors were the easiest careers. And Bill working as a curse breaker could be dangerous, especially when Bill only took the big cases, the most interesting and complex ones. Fred and George could get themselves blown up at any time with all of their tampering and inventions. Then there was Ginny, who was off playing professional Quidditch, which obviously wasn't the most injury free career path. He supposed all of the Weasley children had a little adventure in them, the drive to do something huge.

The nurse brought him to an empty room, white walls and uncomfortable chairs. Had he been thinking, he might've but a cushioning charm down, but instead he just slid into the hard plastic and stared at the tabletop. She slid a few papers in front of him. "Just general questions," she explained. "So we know about everything you might have knowledge of that the medi-witch at the reserve might not." Charlie simply nodded. The nurse sat down next to him, a half-smile, trying to look reassuring, on her face. "She's a fellow dragon keeper, isn't she?" she asked. Charlie looked over at her, jerking his head agreeably. "In my experience, dragon keepers are often very strong. Have faith, Mr. Weasley." Charlie cleared his throat, returning his eyes to the papers in front of him. She sighed understandingly and rose from her seat. "Is there anybody I could owl for you? Friends or family that could keep you company?"

Licking his lips, Charlie nodded, feeling as if the movement was getting monotonous. He cleared his throat, "My family will want to know. They're all very close. Uh, I'll write down the names, there's a lot of them," he told her, his voice scratchy and hoarse. The quill in his hand paused above a piece of scrap parchment. "Is..." He scrubbed at his face for a moment. "We haven't told my family that we're together. So they don't know about... about the baby or... or anything really. We were going to tell them this weekend," he told her, shaking his head. "I don't want them to know until... until she's awake and..." He clenched his jaw. He'd never been great with words, but this was just ridiculous. "I'd like everything to go through me first, please. Just pull me aside and I'll relay it to them. Is that possible?" he asked, lifting his eyes from the parchment to see her expression.

She was rather pretty, he supposed. Rather plain, sort of pale, quite skinny, but her face was kind. Round, high cheekbones, warm eyes, mouth ready to smile. Her hair was pulled up in a messy pile, a sandy blonde that looked like it hadn't been washed in awhile. Work likely got in the way. He wondered what Hermione would think of her. Probably say that she was obviously a very hard worker, which meant she was good in Hermione's books. She was dressed in lime green scrubs with the crossed bone and wand symbol on one chest pocket and her name stitched in black over the pocket holding pens. Nora. Rather reminded him of flowers for a reason he couldn't quite think of. He wondered if Hermione would want flowers when she woke up. He wanted to focus on the fact that she _would_ wake rather than what _could_ happen. He couldn't deal with that, couldn't even really imagine it. His hand was shaking as he held it over the parchment, his eyes blurry.

"Because you're the primary care taker, all information will have to go through you first. If you'd prefer that it stay with just you and her healer, then I will be sure to pass it along. You did say that your family was close to her though, Mr. Weasley--"

"Please, call me Charlie," he interrupted, disliking how old and formal Mr. Weasley sounded. Reminded him of his dad, which only brought up the memory of how much he wanted to talk to Arthur about his own impending fatherhood.

"Charlie then," she agreed, nodding. "If your family really cares about Miss. Granger, then they're going to be on edge and anxious. I'm not trying to interfere, but you should think of what might happen if you keep too much from them. You don't want to add more stress to yourself."

Charlie nodded, shrugging. "I don't think it could get much worse," he muttered. Clearing his throat, he shook his head, "I'll give you their names." Dipping the quill in the ink, he wrote out all of his brothers, Ginny, Harry, and his parents. He figured anybody else they thought needed to know would find out from them. He just wanted his family to know. He felt selfish for wanting Bill to come in from Egypt just so he could talk to somebody who knew about him and Hermione. He felt childish for wanting his mum to tell him it was all going to be okay as she held him. But he needed them, because he was falling apart all on his own. He handed Nora the parchment before pulling the papers closer, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. "Thanks," he called out to her faintly as she left. She nodded back at him, before leaving to send post to the unknowing Weasleys.

Charlie stared at the questions before him, frowning. He didn't know how some of them concerned Hermione's health as it was, but he answered them regardless. He answered the easiest ones first, little known facts about her full name, birth date, gender, build, hair color, etcetera. Then he moved on to the questions that needed more information, like what injuries did he know she suffered from and whether she received medical attention for all of them. Charlie wrote a good list about what he knew had to do with her current job. Burns, bites, scrapes, that sort of thing. Then he moved on to what he knew she had suffered through during the war and all the years leading up to it. He found himself scowling as he looked over just how often his fiancée managed to get injured. The list likely met the standards of which his own would, though she hadn't been doing it out of fun and a love for danger. He answered the question having to do with whether she dealt with potions materials often and what kinds of herbs and ingredients she handled, remembering how often she brewed up salves and lotions for him and Tanya. He wondered if that was a problem, if somehow her dealing with potions a lot would become a issue with them healing her. Would they not be able to use certain healing potions or pastes because she'd handled something that would react differently combined with their cure? He shifted uncomfortably, his mind turning on him to make everything out to be some kind of death sentence for her. He had three pages of personal questions that he answered as in-depth as he could.

He found himself almost chuckling at _Question 27: Does the patient have any tattoos or piercings? Magical or Muggle?_ "One tattoo," he wrote, "magically made. A dragon egg that hatches to look like a Hungarian Horntail baby." He remembered bringing her to the Wizarding Tattoo Parlor so she could get herself inked, she was adamant that she wanted it. Charlie had been unsure, but he took her anyway, knowing she'd go without him if he didn't. She brought along the picture of Keleman and had the wizard put it on her left shoulder blade, careful with the details. Hermione was a stickler and it had come out nicely. But she had nearly torn his arm off when the tattooist started. Despite it being magic, there was sting a deep sting to the work being done and though she didn't make a sound, she nearly squeezed his hand right off his arm through the whole of it. They later went to Scales Pub and Hermione had a Firewhiskey, so Charlie was forced to carry her back to camp. Early in the evening she had been happy, with her tattoo and their night out. She was affectionate and talked him into dancing a few times, but not long later she ended up crying when she thought of Keleman. The night ended with Charlie holding a weeping, hiccuping, Hermione until she fell asleep in his arms while he sat in her favorite orange, threadbare chair. It was still one of his favorite memories with her, despite the tears. He rather liked that she was comfortable enough to share an experience with him that hit her so deeply.

He continued on with the widespread questions, rubbing at his temples and clearing his eyes. His stomach felt tight and his back was stinging. He felt a distant ache in his leg and hoped he wasn't going to have an attack, but he pushed his own pain out of his mind. His quill wrote fast and knowing over the papers. He was surprised to see just how well he knew her and a pained but proud flutter swelled in his chest. The questions having to do with her love life and pregnancy had him pausing. She'd dated before him, a few guys here or there, but never anybody serious. Charlie had been her first, he knew. She was too busy fighting in the war and then searching for a career and getting settled as a dragon keeper to pay much mind to her love life. They had a strong sexual connection, one that kept them on their toes, something he had to put into the records for whatever reason. He didn't know why it was important for healers to know how often she shagged, but he answered the question and moved on to write about her pregnancy, his hand shaking badly.

_Question 43. Has the patient ever been pregnant? Or are they now?_ Charlie sighed, penning out, "Currently nine weeks pregnant. No previous pregnancies." He almost wrote, "Hopefully still nine weeks pregnant," but he caught himself and wanted to kick himself for thinking so dourly. She was fine, he assured himself. He'd seen her holding her stomach to keep it from harm, was relieved when Crystal set out a cushioning charm. The fire had harmed her back and the talon had gone through her shoulder, the baby should be fine. If she lived, his mind reminded cruelly. Charlie went on to answer the questions having to do with the pregnancy thus far. _Has she suffered from morning sickness?_ Yes, for a month now. _Has she been having mood swings?_ No more than usual. _Is she tender anywhere?_ She hasn't mentioned anything. _Has she been taking any Muggle medication? Prenatal vitamins?_ She only found out this morning, so no. _Was it a planned pregnancy?_ Charlie paused, his brows furrowing. The had both wanted children but they didn't think they'd have any for awhile yet. She was young still, her job was just beginning, and Charlie supposed he wouldn't be a father until some time in his thirties. He still felt young and stupid, too ignorant for children. But when he found out he was going to be a father, he wasn't upset, he was excited. It was a new adventure, and Charlie loved adventures. "No. A pleasant surprise," he wrote.

A few more pregnancy questions followed, things he wouldn't yet know considering they'd only had half a day to adjust to the new information. There was still another page left for him to answer, on sleeping and eating habits. He found himself writing things like, "She always wakes up around the same time, without the help of an alarm of any sort," and "She doesn't close the flaps on her windows or shut the tent door all the way, she likes to let the air in," because he figured knowing that she slept through winter and summer with a chill or thick heat in the air, would somehow help them gage her. He wrote about how she liked to eat, saying, "She doesn't put much dressing on her salad," or "She cuts up her food into tiny pieces and chews it forever," and even, "She hates ketchup." In the end he felt even more upset, his shoulders slumping. He was licking ketchup of her mouth that afternoon, what if they never got to have those moments again?

When he finished the papers, he stacked them up and decided to find Nora to give them to her. He wanted them to have as much information as they could. He needed her to get better, needed her to wake up. He rubbed his face, his eyes feeling swollen and his throat raw. His boots were loud against the hospital floor, echoing around him in empty hallways where sick and hurt people lay, waiting for attention or visiting with family and friends. Charlie made his way out to the main area, looking for Nora, his hands clutching the papers tightly. He stopped when he found the area he'd been kneeling in, dark red smudges marring where his knees had been. Blood, dirt, and ash were smeared over the clean white ground and Charlie found he couldn't drag his eyes away from it. He'd been right there, with her dying in his arms. He'd cried for her, knelt limply with her blood and the dirt of the reserve all over him. He didn't know what to feel, how to react.

"Charlie," he heard a voice calling his name, sounding as if it were coming through a tunnel. "Charrrrliiieee..." It almost sounded like her, when she used to sing-song his voice to wake him up. Her hands sliding up his arms, her mouth near his ear. When he'd wake up, he'd turn them over, pinning her to the bed as she laughed happily beneath him. He could smell her; berry lotion, cherry chapstick, light scent of flowers on her hair, mixed in with fire and smoke. He could taste her; mint toothpaste and the tangy flavor of one of her sugarless candies. His cheeks felt wet and he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. He wiped at his face quickly, turning around abruptly to see Nora standing there, looking mildly concerned. "Sorry. I was calling you but you didn't seem to hear me. Have you finished it then?"

He nodded, clearing his throat and handing her the paperwork. "Did-- Have you heard anything?" he asked, walking over to the desk she had moved to stand behind, thumbing through a file marked 'Granger.'

She looked up at him and shook her head. "They aren't saying much. They did give me her things though, what she had on her. They couldn't get her ring off her finger though," she said, frowning. "They tried various spells but it wouldn't come off." Charlie nearly smiled, remembering the advanced sticking charm she had used so she wouldn't lose it at work. Nora sighed, catching his attention again. "I'm really sorry, Charlie, they told me there's not much they can say right now." She moved around a few things before pulling out a lumpy bag. "There's her clothes, the locket she had on, her gloves, which were nearly worn thin, and the elastic from her hair. She didn't have much else on her after that, couldn't find her wand."

Charlie nodded, reaching out to take the bag of belongings. He found himself holding it close to his chest with one arm, almost hugging it. He felt rather foolish, but he didn't let go. "Do I wait here?" he asked, wondering if he sounded as small as he felt right then.

Nora looked past him to the busy waiting room, filled with witches and wizards needing treating and various people pacing anxiously over friends and family. She pursed her lips a moment, shaking her head. "Miss. Granger has been taken to the first floor, there's another waiting room up there that you can go to. It's much more quiet," she told him, before explaining how to get to it.

Charlie nodded, turning to walk down to the lift that would bring him to the first floor, rather feeling like a little kid about to go somewhere unknown and dark. He stood in the lift with two others, one an older man and the other a jittery woman about his mother's age, clutching a handkerchief in her hand and twisting it anxiously. She was on her way to the Fourth Floor, Spell Damage; he knew it well from his brothers. The older man was going up to fifth floor, Visitor's Tea Room and Gift Shop, he was whistling a jaunty tune to himself and Charlie had the sudden urge to tell him to stuff his cheer up his arse before he did it for him. He got off on the first floor and followed Nora's directions until he found a room ringed with the same plastic chairs, a couple tables holding papers like Witch Weekly, The Daily Prophet, Which Broomstick, and the odd The Quibbler mixed in. He took a seat farthest from the people around him, each of them looking worried and uncomfortable. He found a corner, slunk down into the chair and clutched the bag of Hermione's things to his chest as he leaned his head back and stared at the roof.

He tried to imagine what they'd be doing if she hadn't been injured. She agreed to take the nap he kept bringing up, so she'd probably be wrapped up in a blanket, snoozing in one of their beds. He'd either still be working or cuddled up next to her. He didn't know what time it was, so he couldn't figure out what they'd be doing regularly. It had been nearly dinner when they were called on to help out with the Ironbelly, so he imagined it was fairly late. Maybe they would have just sat in her chair and read a book, or talked about the baby and what Tanya had informed her about what was coming. They hadn't had time to discuss it overly much, too busy with working and assuming they'd have time later. He had divided his time from staring at her stomach, taking care of the dragons, and trying to kiss her, and now he felt as if it was the last time he'd ever have that lighthearted feeling again. He kept trying to remember exactly how it felt, to remember how his heart still hammered when she smiled at him or how his hands still shook when he ran them over her body. He wanted to remember exactly how she felt pressed up against him in a hug, or how her voice sounded when she was amused. It wasn't coming to him though, thinking about it didn't have the same effect as actually doing it. The idea that he'd never have it again was twisting him up inside.

He closed his eyes tight, thinking of her face, of her mouth and her eyes, her arms and her legs, her eye lashes and freckles. Everything about her, trying to wrap his mind around her entirely and just absorb her into his thoughts. He felt a headache coming on, his eyes stinging as he tightened them closed and tried to imagine her right there in front of his face. He demanded his mind to draw up the scent of her, to let his hands feel her skin. His shoulders shook painfully, his back aching and his throat burning.

"_You can't catch me," she teased, hopping over a rock and continuing on down the grassy hill. They had the afternoon off and she had somehow convinced him a picnic in the field over would be nice. She'd politely asked the House Elves to make it up for them and he carried the basket to a nice, shaded area beneath a tree. She laid out a soft blanket for them to lounge on and then when he was filled to the brim, tired and comfortable, she proposed a game. He wanted to spend the afternoon snogging her all over the blanket, slipping his hands beneath her thin blue sundress to find her soft skin. But she was adamant that they work off the monstrous lunch the House Elves prepared, so he was chasing after her, trying to get a hold of her. The minute he captured her, he was taking her right back to the blanket to go on with his plan._

_He heard her laugh as he barely made it across a fallen log, his mind not entirely on where he was going. He grinned at her as she looked back over her shoulder. Her hair was floating around her, bouncing and dancing in the wind. The sun found her brown curls, making them shimmer gold and red. Her smile was contagious, her happiness catching. She was beautiful. She avoided the brush and branches easily, her body swerving and avoiding it all as if she knew the area like the back of her hand. Her cheeks were flushed with her running and her eyes glittered with amusement._

_She broke out into the wide, open field and ran across it, through long grass and weeds that resembled flowers. He didn't pick up his pace, though he knew he could easily catch her now. He rather enjoyed watching her run from him, laughter bubbling out of her and her mouth curved in an enticing smile. She winked at him, dodging to one side as he rushed closer and then took off in another direction. Charlie watched her in the glow of the sun, her skin tanned and warm against the light blue of her dress. She held her arms out to the sides, hands brushing over the tops of the grass. "Com'on, big dragon keeper. Catch the weak little girl," she called out to him, twirling in the grass and running off backwards, her curls bouncing around her shoulders._

_Charlie snorted, Hermione was anything but weak. But he chased her anyway, because the sound of her rich laughter did things to his stomach that made him feel like a sixteen year old boy with a crush. Because her smile lit up her whole face and he'd never seen anything more beautiful. He caught up with her easily and had enough of the game, wanting to kiss her now. She gave a delighted shriek as he hauled her up against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she looked up at him with warm chocolate eyes, dancing with lighthearted humor. "Took you long enough," she said, running a hand through his hair._

"_I was enjoying the view," he replied, grinning._

"_From afar," she pointed out, lifting a brow. "How's the close up?"_

"_Much better," he said, leaning down to press his lips to hers, tongue peeking out to run across her mouth. He could feel her fingers caressing his neck, tugging at his hair. She made a noise from deep in her throat and he smiled against her mouth, smug. He turned, still holding her, eyes closed, and wondered if it was possible to get all the way back to the blanket under the tree without putting her down. She moved closer in his arms, her arms tightening and her teeth nibbling at his mouth. He'd find a way._

"Charlie," he heard a voice call out, familiar, worried; his mother.

He lifted his head, blinking quickly in hopes that his eyes didn't show anything. He spotted her across the room, looking around with a pale face and hands knotted together in front of her. He cleared his throat and before he could even get out of the chair, she was there. Her arms wrapped tight around him and she cried against his shoulder, her body shaking as she patted his body, looking for injuries. He held back a hiss of pain as she touched his back, still stinging from the lacerations he wasn't much interested in seeing anybody about right then. Charlie relaxed into her hug, feeling a small stirring of comfort from her embrace. His mother could be overwhelming, always concerned and usually ready to chastise someone for something, but right now he really needed the warmth she provided. He felt like a little kid wanting his mum to hold him, but he didn't care about that too much. He was broken, and mums put things back together.

"Molly, dear, calm down," Arthur's voice reached out soothingly. Charlie just about broke down and told them everything right then. It wasn't so long ago that he found out he was going to be a dad and the first person he wanted to tell was his own father. Now he had no idea what was happening to his family. "Let the boy tell us what happened. The note was rather vague. Said Charlie Weasley required our immediate assistance at St. Mungo's and that the matter concerned Hermione," Arthur explained to him, looking worried. "Received mine at work and Molly was there before I could even floo her. We came as soon as we could."

Charlie nodded, leaning back as his mum let him go to sit beside him. He hadn't released his arms from the bag against his chest and wondered if either of them had noticed. It would probably look less suspicious if he wasn't clinging to it, but he couldn't convince his arms to loosen. "Uh." He didn't know where to begin, how to explain it without giving too much away. He cleared his throat. "There was a new dragon brought to the reserve, a Ukrainian Ironbelly, older and with a bad temper. A couple of the other keepers were supposed to cage it after it arrived but they were having trouble. The reserve administrator called all the keepers out to help. We were supposed to rope it down, keep it under control while a few keepers muzzled and saddled it to move back toward the caging area. It was acting up though, had already set a hatchling keep on fire and knocked out another dragon. We were having trouble holding it down, the charmed ropes kept pulling up. Its tail got loose and they couldn't get it down, it kept swinging out at the keepers nearby while spitting fire at everybody trying to rope it." He noticed his father stiffen and his mother's hand reached out, resting on his knee. He didn't look at them, didn't want to see whether they knew what was coming or not.

He swallowed, his throat dry. "Hermione missed the first few swipes, but it... it got her in the end. The spike..." He stopped for a moment, his chin quivering. "The spike c-caught her in the shoulder, went straight through, lifted her up. The Ironbelly stopped swinging its tail though and she flew off." He took a deep breath, his eyes staring at the floor as if he was seeing it all again. He could smell the smoke, feel the heat, hear the rushing of his pulse in his ears. He remembered the way his heart clenched in fear when she was hit, how he stumbled and then held his arms out, like somehow she'd fly right at him and he'd catch her before putting her safely on the ground. His mothers hand was digging into his knee, scared. He considered reaching out and covering it, as if to reassure her, but his hand only tightened on the bag against his chest.

He shook his head, blinking a few times to relieve the tears building. "Uh, after she hit the ground, the Ironbelly turned, spitting fire across the area. I couldn't see her, I'd been running to her but Jonas yanked me down. The fire was only a few feet above me, I... I could feel it," he murmured. He chewed the inside of his cheek a moment, to stop from saying something that would tell them how hurt he was. It was all right to be this upset, wasn't it? Even if they only though he was her partner? He cleared his throat, "When it let up, I went searching for her. The smoke was thick and I couldn't tell how far she was. Jonas was helping, he... he spotted her. She was curled up into herself. Her back was burned pretty bad, her shoulder was bleeding." He clenched his jaw, remembering how thick the puddle of blood was around her. "I... I picked her up and I ran to the medi-tent. Tanya gave me a portkey and I brought her here. The healers took her, said I'd know something when it happened."

"But she's not..." Molly trailed off, her voice shaky. The last word was obvious, it didn't need to be said. _Dead_.

Charlie jerked his head, "Not as far as I know," he managed.

"Hermione's a strong woman," Arthur told them, his tone strong but his eyes worried. "She'll get through this."

He listened as his father comforted his mother, as a husband and wife of over thirty years consoled one another. He remembered wanting that with Hermione. Wanting to be like his parents. With their strong relationship, their large, loving family, their garden needing de-gnoming. He and Hermione were supposed to grow old together. Where he'd read for her and she'd bandage the scrapes he'd still manage to get. He heard his father murmur things against Molly's shoulder, reassuring her that Hermione would make it through and she could fawn all over her when it had all passed. He whispered, "Mollywobbles," and soothing words until his wife quieted enough to just lean against him, trusting that he was right. Despite the fact that she was hurting and worried, Molly never let go of Charlie's knee, still reaching out to him comfortingly.

Charlie stared out at the door, waiting for a healer to bring him news. Hermione considered being a healer once, he remembered. She decided she couldn't handle so much pain and agony around her. She'd had enough of it in her life. He supposed that was why she rather appreciated his humor when he hurt himself, rather than whining and hysterical shouting. He wondered what she'd be doing if she were in his position and he was the one who'd been badly burned and gouged. Then remembered the fear on her face whenever she saw him bleeding and knew that she'd be just as agonized as he was. He'd rather her be worried than how she was now though and wished he could trade places with her.

He looked up when two sets of legs walked into the waiting room and found the twins staring back, grim expressions on their faces. They crossed over to stand in front of them, staring at Charlie and then looking at Molly and Arthur. "Don't keep us in suspense then," they said, but there was no humor in their words.

Charlie listened as Arthur related the story of what happened and returned his attention to the door, waiting. The twins sat down to Charlie's left, taking up seats against the joining wall. The told their mother much the same thing Arthur had, reassuring her that Hermione was the strongest witch they knew. There wasn't much more to be said than that. He listened as they all agreed that she'd be okay, that it probably wasn't as bad as they thought. St. Mungo's was the best Wizarding hospital and being a war heroine, she'd get the best treatment possible. Charlie stayed quiet, he didn't know what would come out of his mouth if he spoke to them. The numb feeling was returning. He felt drained and tired, hollow. Despite the fact that he'd wanted his family around him before, he now felt as if there was a barrier between them. He knew it was because he was holding back so much, that he was pretending his pain wasn't as much as it was. He felt suffocated between them, his chest tight and his breathing becoming rather thick. He wanted to hole up somewhere, find refuge in his own thoughts.

How many nights had considered telling his family and then didn't? He liked having her to himself, enjoyed knowing that what they had was all theirs. They didn't have to share with the other Weasleys, didn't have to tell his mum all about their relationship or what they wanted with each other. It was just theirs. He was rather possessive, he supposed. It wasn't just with his family. He didn't like sharing her much with anyone. He didn't have any problems with their friends, enjoyed spending the odd night out at Scales Pub with Jonas and a few others. They'd dance and drink and enjoy themselves, but he didn't like outsiders. Hermione always caught people's attention. Not only because she was an attractive, smart witch, but because she was well known. Famous. She didn't like the attention and while she took it with a friendly smile when it was thrust upon her, she didn't appreciate the numerous drunk men who pointed her out or came on to her because of it. Neither did Charlie. He wasn't really an aggressive man, he didn't think. There were a few things that warranted fighting, he thought. Maltreatment of his family, Death Eaters, Voldemort, heavy handed people with dragons, and anybody mistreating Hermione. There were the few pub fights though, when somebody mouthy did something to cross him and he couldn't let it pass. He remembered not so long ago when his temper got the best of him.

_The night was going well. Laughter riddled the air. Tankards of ale, bottles of butterbeer, and shots of Firewhiskey were prominent on the table in front of them. Charlie was enjoying himself at Scales Pub with fellow keepers and one medi-witch, Jonas, Crystal, Tobias, Isaiah, Tanya, Chuck, and Hermione. Jonas was telling a story about one of his many former girlfriends when she got sodded and decided she was going to climb a tree while the rest of them listened amusedly. They had all had a long week. Two new dragons had been transferred over from a reserve that was shutting down just off the coast of Maine. A third had died during transfer for reasons unknown and the two that had arrived weren't in the best of moods. They'd been giving the reserve trouble all week and the keepers were frustrated and tired. Jonas had proposed a night of tomfoolery and drinking and everyone agreed. Hermione stuck to her butterbeer, never one much for drinking to begin with. She enjoyed it all the same, and Charlie was comforted in knowing that at least one of them was sober to get them back. He'd had a couple shots and was nursing a tankard of ale, he wasn't interested in holding back. He could sleep in the next morning and he needed to let off a little steam._

"_So she's halfway up the tree right and I tell her, eh, Tracy, you're wearin' a bloody dress, yeh lost yer shoes somewhere on the way here and I can see yer not wearin' knickers, I don' think this is the most brilliant plan yeh've ever had," Jonas told them, taking a drag off his cigarette. "She turns around, gives me the finger and begins shoutin' somethin' 'bout me being a giant prat before she lost her foot hold and came tumbling down. Bloody woman kneed me in the fuckin' groin and then slapped me, sayin' it was **my** fault!" He gave off a loud of howl of laughter and the table joined in. "She was a minx though, tha' one," he said, leering amusedly._

_Hermione rolled her eyes, "Aren't they all?"_

_Jonas shook his head, "Nah, have I ever told yeh 'bout a girl named Alexandra?" he asked, grinning._

_Rising from her seat, Hermione asked them all if they wanted a refresher while she was up. Crystal asked for two more shots of Firewhiskey, which Hermione lifted her brow at. Crystal was three sheets past soused, she was hardly able to sit in her chair any longer, which is why Jonas put a sticking charm on her arse to keep her in place, much to Crystal's amusement. Charlie was fairly sure that Crystal and Jonas were shagging in the background, or at the very least Crystal wanted to. He didn't ask, didn't much care. Jonas asked Hermione to ask the barmaid to bring around the ale and then went back to telling Charlie all about Sammy the rather strict, boring woman he'd dated. Apparently she'd had a librarianish appeal, with the strict attitude and conservative attire. Unfortunately it wasn't a cover for a very sexual side to her at all and Jonas was sorely disappointed, though he did tell an interesting tale about what he **expected**__but never got from the woman, which Charlie found just as interesting as any story about the women Jonas actually had fun with._

_Charlie half-listened to Jonas while watching Hermione to see how she was doing with the drinks. She was having a friendly conversation with the barmaid from what Charlie could tell and he nearly returned his eyes to Jonas' animated arm movements and expressions before he caught sight of the guy moving closer to Hermione, leering and smirking. The guy wasn't much younger than him, dark hair, rather stocky in build. The type of guy Ginny would probably label as good looking, despite the fact that he looked fairly drunk. Charlie frowned at the man, but decided to wait and see what would happen before jumping to conclusions. Hermione wouldn't appreciate him starting what she would call an 'unfounded' bar fight. He leaned back in his chair, drinking from his tankard and watching as Hermione charmed the drinks to levitate over to the table as she walked a couple feet behind, still calling something out to the barmaid._

_The drinks made it far before she did and Charlie's eyes thinned as the man took hold of Hermione's arm and began talking to her, a wide and deceiving smile on his face. Charlie could see the hesitant but understanding half-smile on Hermione's mouth as she likely gave him the same reply she did most who recognized her. He knew it by heart already and could tell them before she even thought to say it. "Yes, yes I am Harry Potter's friend, Hermione. Oh, no, it was nothing special, I assure you. I'm sure you were a huge help in the war. We won after all, and it wouldn't have been doable without the help of everyone. Nobody played a bigger part. We're all equal." Ever the modest witch, of course._

_He watched her take a step, trying to pull her arm from the man's grasp and get back to the festivities at the table. He watched her shake her head at him, a forced smile appearing as she became annoyed. Charlie rose from his seat, moving his tankard out of the way. "Char," Isaiah called knowingly._

"_What?" he replied, "I won't hit him if he doesn't hit me," he said with a grin._

_Jonas snorted, "Yeh always taunt 'em."_

"_Hardly," he replied before walking over to his girlfriend, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "Your drink's getting warm, love. You coming?" he asked Hermione, who looked up at him with a lifted brow and a small smile. Her eyes told him not to start anything, but he simply grinned back._

_She turned back to the man who still had a hand on her arm, opening her mouth to likely say goodnight._

"_You mind? Me an' the lady were havin' a nice chat," the bloke said, his eyes glazed with drink and far too much infatuation for Charlie's liking._

_Charlie quirked the side of his mouth, "Nice chat's over. She's busy." He turned her back toward the table, tugging her loose of the man's grasp._

"_Hold on then," the chap said, sounding rather annoyed. "We was enjoyin' ourselves," he said, reaching out to grab her again._

_Charlie's hand caught his before it met Hermione's arm, wrapping tight around the mans wrist. "How about you walk away? While you still have teeth," he warned rather cheerfully._

"_Charlie," Hermione said, sounding rather amused. She buried her face against his shoulder and her shoulders quaked with laughter. She inhaled quickly, "Come on, let's just go back to the table. No need to get physical."_

_Charlie let go of the mans wrist to rest his hand on her waist, he shot a warning look at the bloke before walking back to the table with Hermione. He grinned at Jonas, "See, told you I wouldn't do anything."_

_Jonas snorted. "Don't get teh comfortable yet, mate. Seems he wasn't done with yeh," he told him, nodding over at the man swaggering over to a table of his friends, looking huffy._

_Hermione sighed, sipping her butterbeer. "Is this really necessary?"_

"_Not if he keeps his hands to himself," Charlie replied, shrugging._

"_Honestly," she murmured, rolling her eyes before sipping her drink once more. "He's just another overconfident 'fan'."_

"_By fan yeh mean another bloke who wants teh get a leg over yeh, right?" Jonas teased, smirking. "Yeh got a lotta those, 'Mione, explain again why yer with this bloke?" he wondered, feigning confusion._

_Hermione shrugged her shoulders, her brows lifted in innocence. "No idea. Must have permanent heatstroke, can't think straight," she stated with an exaggerated sigh._

_Charlie grinned. "Lucky you," he said, lifting his tankard to his mouth._

_They continued drinking, sharing stories and generally enjoying the night. Charlie kept an eye on the table across the pub, watching the man from earlier stew in his own anger at them. Jonas too, seemed to be keeping an eye out, but kept his humorous attitude toward it all. He flirted with Crystal for awhile who, even though she was drunk, was quite keen to flirt back. They were an interesting duo. Crystal had been around for half a decade and loved dragons like they were her children, often calling them her babies. She'd never been married, didn't seem much interested in forever and always, but enjoyed the odd bloke from time to time. She was easy going and friendly, not bad to look at either. She'd flirted with Charlie when she first arrived and kept up an on-going teasing ever since. Nothing ever came of it and they made better friends than anything. She was outspoken, often wrong but it didn't stop her from yelling her opinion. Charlie could only take her in small doses but Jonas liked her well enough. Hermione got along with her, she was one of the few women Hermione spoke to amicably. Tanya being another. _

_The night was winding down when the guys across the pub were finally drunk enough to do something. Tobias, Isaiah, Tanya, and Chuck had gone back to the reserve earlier, so it was just Hermione, Crystal, Jonas, and Charlie left. The bloke that grabbed Hermione was up in front of the group, hands fisted beside him and a drunken glaze to his eyes. Charlie leaned back in his chair, looking for all to see like a guy who didn't have a care in the world. Jonas glanced up at the brood as they approached, a grin forming on his mouth. If Charlie was rambunctious for liking the odd fight due to the rush it gave him, then Jonas was out of control._

"_You chaps got a problem?" Charlie wondered, lifting a brow at them._

"_Yeah, we gotta big problem," the first bloke said, sneering. "See, I don't like bein' threatened."_

"_Yeah?" Charlie asked, knocking back his ale and licking his lips as he dropped the tankard on the table. "I don't like blokes hassling my girlfriend," he said with an easy shrug._

"_She wanted it," he replied, licking his lips lewdly and leering at Hermione._

"_Didn't yer mums ever warn yeh not teh play with dragon keepers?" Jonas asked, lighting up a cigarette and lifting his brow at them as he smirked. "We're a mean lot," he warned cheerfully._

"_Is that s'pose to scare us?" one of the others asked, cracking his knuckles in an over dramatic way._

"_Only if yer not fucked in the head," Jonas replied, taking a long drag of his cigarette. He winked, grinning. "Now, yeh only got two choices and I warn yeh teh think hard, 'cause I'm half-pissed, my girl is teh sloshed teh help me relax, and I love a good arse kicking. Yeh can walk away now or we can finish this up the fun way." He pointed his cigarette them, "Bear in mind that I wrestle dragons all bloody day, I haven' had much rest, and yeh've just interrupted my night off. Now," he puffed his fag and then stamped it out on the table. "Who the hell wants teh get the shite kicked out of 'em?" he wondered, rising from his chair._

_Charlie grinned at him, chuckling as he rubbed his jaw, waiting. The blokes in front of him looked confused, rather uncertain about what they were about to do. When they didn't step back, Jonas took the initiative after a quick shrug at Charlie, he reared his arm back and smashed it into the closest chap's jaw. "Fuck!" he cursed, grinning wickedly. "Tha' felt good!"_

_Charlie laughed, but it was cut short as the bloke in front of him suddenly took a swipe at him. He dodged the blow, ducking his head and then shooting up from his chair. He balled his fist up, slamming it into the face of the guy who had been hoping to catch Charlie off guard. He watched him stumble back before turning his attention to the other guy near him. Jonas was laughingly fighting off two guys at the same time. A few other bar patrons were getting into the rough of it, but Charlie wasn't quite sure whose side they were on. He felt a fist knock hard with his jaw and his head swiped to one side, the guy who hit him looked a little shocked, like he had expected Charlie to fall after one hit. Charlie could taste the bitter, copper flavor of blood in his mouth and spat it out on the floor before turning back to the guy who took a shot at him. He was a shorter fellow, large around the shoulders and arms, but thin everywhere else. Charlie wondered if he took a potion to bulk up, before he uppercut the guy in the jaw and shrugged as he was knocked out instantly._

_Jonas whooped loudly and Charlie turned just in time to see him head-butt a man twice his size, breaking the giant's nos, before quickly adding a sharp punch to his jaw to get the guy out of his way. Jonas then turned his attention to the guy trying to jump on his back, chuckling like a hyena at the whole of it. "CHARLIE! Watch your bloody back!" Hermione called out to him and he turned just in time to duck a man swinging a tankard. Shouting and cursing filled the pub and Charlie pushed the guy in front of him back into the two coming up behind him, effectively knocking three down._

_Crashing surrounded him, tables breaking, bottles smashing, chairs flying through windows. He felt alive in an odd way, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Nearly everybody was tied up with someone and Charlie looked around for the guy who started it all, frowning. He avoided elbows and swinging fists as they came out at him, swinging back when needed but keeping his focus on finding the idiot who started it all. He glanced back at Hermione to see that she was okay, finding her dragging the chair Crystal was charmed to out of the way of everyone else. She was muttering, Charlie could tell by the way her brow was furrowed and she was shaking her head. He felt a fist in his stomach and gasped for breath, before standing up and elbowing the robust man who was panting in front of him, eyes wide and a wild look on his face. The one thing Charlie liked about himself in a fight was that he didn't lose control, he kept his mind and didn't let himself get so caught up in all of it that he didn't know when to stop._

_He could hear Jonas' loud whooping noises as he fought bloke after bloke, relishing in the energy of fighting. He fed up things like this, Charlie knew. Jonas had been a trouble maker in his youth, known by name to various Aurors. He was always getting in trouble at school and driving his parents nuts with his constant drive for doing something dangerous. He loved to fight, enjoyed it if it was needed. He never went out of his way to goad somebody into a tussle, but he didn't back out either. He'd always been a rather big guy, all thick muscle and the agility to back it up. Charlie could see he was having a great time, his mouth bleeding, a cut over his eye, a tooth hanging precariously while he grinned. He'd have one helluva headache in the morning, he'd probably bruised and pained, but he'd tell the story like it was the best night of his life._

_Charlie yanked a man back just before he broke a large bottle over Jonas' head and threw him into a table to get him out of the way. Jonas nodded at him in gratitude before pulling his arm back and smashing it into another blokes face. Charlie was pushed forward by a couple of guys trading hits behind him and almost lost his footing. He caught himself by grabbing onto a pole and took the moment to scan the pub. The barmaid was shaking her head, rolling her eyes and muttering a spell, likely to call on the pub owner who lived upstairs. As if he could sleep through the ruckus going on downstairs. Charlie finally spotted who he was looking for and scowled at seeing him weaving his way closer to Hermione, who was kneeling next to Crystal, trying to take the sticking charm of her arse._

_Pushing through the crowd of swinging fists and elbows, Charlie took a few hits to his ribs and face, but continued on. He was nearly there when Hermione succeeded in helping Crystal, who sprung up on shaky feet and then joined the fight, jumping on the back of a guy Jonas was fighting to hold him still. Charlie pushed a couple of chaps out of the way and continued on his way toward the bloke sneering at Hermione, who was now looking up at him boredly. He reached out for her, looking as if he was trying for her arm, but Hermione pulled back and the guys hand wrapped around her breast. Intentional or not, he didn't move his hand immediately, instead keeping it where it was and stepping closer. Hermione's eyes thinned, her fist balling tightly before she brought it up and smashed it into the guys chin. He stumbled back in shock, the blow knocking him a few inches to one side. He turned back to her angrily, his mouth set in a scowl as he took quick steps to get to her. Hermione backed up, reaching for the wand she returned to her back pocket._

_Charlie arrived before her hand could full wrap around the wood of her wand, his large fist taking the guy straight off his feet. He was laid out on the ground groaning when Charlie grabbed his collar and hauled him back up. He slammed his fist into the blokes head again, but held him with the other so he wouldn't fall and brought him back up on his shaky feet. Bleeding profusely from his nose and mouth, he stared up at Charlie, pained and angry. He struggled against Charlie's hand, before spitting out, "Didn't really want the slag anyway. Uptight bint." His teeth were stained with blood as he grit them and glared up at Charlie. "Got a nice feel though. Great story to tell in future. Hermione Granger, heroine of the Wizarding world, has nice--"_

_Charlie drew his knee up into the bloke's stomach, cutting off his spiel. He grabbed the back of his hair and smashed his head down on the table nearby, taking small satisfaction in the crack that sounded from it, effectively rendering the bloke useless. He fell to the ground, blinking stunned eyes and groaning up at Charlie. Kneeling next to him, Charlie grabbed his shirt and lifted him up a bit. "You live nearby here?" he asked him, shaking him when he didn't reply right away. He finally gave a jerky nod and managed to tell Charlie he lived in the village. "Right. You're going to forget you ever saw her, aren't you?" he asked him, his hand moving to tighten around the man's shoulder, fingers pressing in hard. "You're gonna forget you saw her, talked to her, and you really never touched her. Understand?" he asked, his tone dark._

_The man was curling away from Charlie, groaning in pain as he continued to squeeze his shoulder. He nodded sharply, "Never saw her." Charlie squeezed again, scowling down at him. "Don't even know who she is. She who?" he managed, his voice choked._

_Charlie nodded, before letting him go and moving to stand up. He paused, rearing his arm back and hitting the bastard one last time. He smirked as he stood up, kicked him lightly to see if he was going to move and found he was completely unconscious. He turned back to see that most of the pub was knocked out, only a handful or so still going at it. "You done, Jonas?" he wondered, looking over to his friend as he knocked back a Firewhiskey while Crystal held a rag against the cut on his cheek._

_He waved at Charlie, nodding. "Yeah, yeh ready teh go then?" he wondered as if the last while had been nothing out of the norm. "I've gotta hankerin' for fish and chips. How 'bout yeh guys then?" he said, wrapping an arm around Crystal, who was swaying beside him, still quite drunk._

_Hermione came up beside Charlie, a frown on her pretty and flushed face. "Really, I don't think this was necessary. The whole pub is unrecognizable. How are we even sure that they'll let us in next week?" she said sourly._

"_Oh, they'll let us in," Jonas told her, nodding. "Yeah, I do this all the time and I've never been banned." He grinned, nodding at them to follow him as he walked toward the door. He hooted happily, "Great night, wouldn' yeh say, Char?"_

"_Definitely," he called out to his friend as he wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder, doing his best not to wince when his ribs ached. His stomach felt tender and the pain around his face was beginning to set in. He wasn't about to tell her that, not with her staring up at him knowingly. "Have fun, love?"_

_She snorted, "Tons. Could hardly control myself there at the end. It was better than reading," she said sarcastically. Rolling her eyes, she wrapped her around around his back. "Are you going to pretend it doesn't hurt, or did you want me to fawn over you when we get back?" she asked cheekily._

_Charlie tipped his head, wondering. "Now that you bring it up, I think I need a massage. I'm very tender, achy really. No idea why. We should play healer, I'll be the willing patient and you'll be the sexy, studious type trying to cure me of all my ailments."_

"_Is being a crazy prat on the list of ailments?" she wondered, rubbing his side as they left the pub._

"_Nah, that's just part of my natural charm," he replied, grinning._

"Charlie," he heard interrupt his thoughts. He turned, realizing his mum calling his name.

"Yeah?" he asked hoarsely, staring at her, his mind still rather muddled, lost in thoughts of her.

"Did you get injured, too, Charlie?" one of the twins wondered, looking at him worriedly.

"Yeah, you've been staring out at the door funny ever since we got here," the other added, nodding. "Hit your head or anything?"

"I'm fine," he said, his voice toneless. His mum reached out, her hand running over his hair before she rubbed his cheek with her knuckles. She didn't say anything, didn't tell him why she was calling his name. She just let her hand fall, wrapping it around his arm and patting it reassuringly. He wanted to tell her then, because he knew she'd understand, that she'd somehow make him feel better. But his mouth didn't work and he sat staring listlessly at the door still.

Suddenly there was a ruckus near the entrance of the room and Charlie looked up to see Harry and Ron rushing in. Ron was shouting something back at a nurse, clearly annoyed that they didn't have any information for him. The two Aurors hurried over, pale and worried, but still scowling. Charlie swallowed thickly, feeling all that he knew build up in his throat. He didn't want to hear Ron accuse him of not taking care of her, of letting her do something dangerous. They didn't even know the half of it. His chin fell to his chest as he slumped down in his seat, the top of the bag brushing his jaw as he stared at the floor. He half-listened as his parents explained everything to Ron and Harry, watching his brother's feet pace across the floor in front of him. Harry slumped down into a chair, nodding his head as everybody kept saying Hermione was strong and she'd get through it. The only note of reassurance they could give.

Charlie was getting tired of people saying Hermione was strong. He knew she was. But there were some things she couldn't fight. She was unconscious, burned and bloodied, it wasn't as if she could find her own cure in a book or mix it up in her tent. And he'd seen her when she was vulnerable, she wasn't always strong like they thought. He'd seen her cry and fall apart. Held her hand when she got stitches in her leg and she admitted that it hurt like hell. He knew that she had occasional nightmares and woke up terrified, dripping in sweat with wide eyes and a burning in her chest. She was courageous, brave, and strong, but she had weaknesses. She wasn't made of stone, she could be hurt. She had the scars to prove it. She could cry and feel the sting of emptiness and hopelessness. He'd held her through moments where she felt unsteady or scared. She was human. Despite the fact that she'd survived eight years of Voldemort chasing after her best friend and a war where her parents were taken and she was constantly injured. Whether she kept dragons for two long years and had a boyfriend who constantly got himself hurt. She was human. And humans weren't immortal. She could die. She could be dying right then and he wouldn't know it. Hermione was strong, but she couldn't wrangle death into submission. He didn't say this though, didn't want to hurt them anymore than they already were. It was his own burden.

Ron wouldn't sit down, he muttering under his breath, curling and unfurling his fists, stomping back and forth in front of the family. He knew Ron was building his anger, getting ready to unleash it on him. He waited, feeling like he probably deserved it. He didn't want to hear it, couldn't handle the guilt eating away at him already. Ron was cursing under his breath and when he came to a stop, Charlie looked up, waiting to hear what his youngest brother had to shout at him.

Just as Ron's mouth fell open, Bill walked into the room and caught everybody's attention. "Charlie," he said, his face white as chalk. He looked at his brothers around him, at his parents, and then focused on Charlie slumped in his chair. He stared up at his older brother, feeling just the tiniest bit comforted in the knowledge that at least one person in the room knew he was hurting, badly. "Can I talk to you, little brother?" he asked, looking at him anxious and concerned.

Charlie nodded, rising from the chair to walk towards him, arms still clutching Hermione's bagged things. He had almost made it to Bill when Nora the nurse stepped in, staring at him a moment. "Mr. Weasley, Healer Smethwyck asked me to inform you of something very important," she said, motioning him out of the room, away from the other family.

Charlie glanced at Bill, swallowing thickly before he followed Nora out of the room.

Bill stared out at his little brother as he stared down at the shorter woman, who looked to be in her mid-thirties and very tired. She spoke slow and direct, never breaking eye contact, and Bill couldn't tell if that was a good or bad sign. She reached out then, placing a hand on Charlie's shoulder and said something to him with a very serious expression on her face. Bill watched as Charlie crumbled, his legs giving out and his head lolling forward. Bill had only ever seen his brother cry a handful of times and couldn't tell if he was desperately happy or heartwrenchingly broken. He'd recognized the look in Charlie's eyes when he walked in. He was lost and scared, something Bill had never connected with Charlie before. His younger brother had always been very confident and strong no matter the situation. He was rarely afraid, if ever, and he had a good grasp of everything. Charlie's brothers, sister, and parents were the people who meant the most to him his entire life and he would've done anything asked if it would do them good. Hermione had become the center of Charlie's life nearly two years ago and Bill had known from the very first mention of her in Charlie's letter that she was going to turn his life upside down, but in a good way. Now though, watching his brother clutching a brown, blood spattered bag in his arms as he knelt on the floor of St. Mungo's, his face turned away, shoulders shaking obviously, Bill felt his stomach clench painfully. Loving Hermione had been the best thing to happen to Charlie, but that fact couldn't help the broken form Bill saw.

* * *

**A/N** _Sorry for the wait, it was a bit longer than I anticipated. I'm glad so many are reading and enjoying this! I hope this chapter too met up wtih your expectations! I've finished the epilogue, so it's completely done, just waiting to be posted in full. I'll try and update again here soon. :D Just wondering... what does everyone think of Jonas? He's personally one of my favorite OwnCharacters that I've ever created. I just love him. lol._

_Thanks for reading, please leave a review, it's greatly appreciated.  
Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	4. Part Four: A Dragon Keeper's Agony

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_This chapter was simply amazing. I don't know how you manage to 'wow' us every time and surprise us with the twists and turns we don't see coming. I will admit that when I first saw the title of this chapter I got really worried and thought the worst, but then I think if the worst did happen, your story would be under tragedy as well as the other genres. This chapter, along with all your others, pull at your heartstrings and make you feel in a very real way for the characters and what's happening to them. I don't think that Hermione will die, despite what Charlie's reaction to the Healer's news at the end may imply. I think he breaks because of all the pressure that has been put on him in this moment, perhaps he breaks down out of relief rather than mourning. Or maybe he does break down in mourning, maybe not Hermione, but their child? There are so many different things that could have happened or could happen, and I think the only way we will ever find out is to wait and read it for ourselves. Jonas is amazingly funny; the picture I get of him when I read his parts is exact to the character from Titanic. I am not sure of his name, Tommy, I think, but he is the Irish passenger that meets Jack on the deck near the beginning of the film. The way you write Jonas is near exact to his character (in my mind at least) and I agree that he is one of your best, if not one of my favourite original characters you have written_." - _**CrystalizedHeart **(Mel)_ of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _Dizi 85, x-Lazart-x, Galleon-to-Galleon, Ellie Siri Black, bella1305pickles, anglbby989, Blackmusasabi, untamedspiral, pattilarr, Celtic-Dragon-89, suni-delight, I read not write, Jester08, www-dot-com, ginsensu, pstibbons, rachhulk, ShatteredTruth, emeraldgray, ssdaawn, Danielle, wasu, Agar Loki, **So this is love, CraZYdUCKIE, Filette, Coquetry, MsRisa, sodabug, mskiti** (Tabi), **BBRuth**_ and _especially_ _**SemiZealotish, ProperT, CrystalizedHeart** (Mel) _and_ **galloping-goose** (Zeus)._

_**Only In The World of Dragons**_

_Part Four – A Dragon Keeper's Agony_

Charlie didn't know what to expect when Nora called him out, his heart was hammering and his breathing was picking up. He'd been waiting for news, becoming worried when none was coming, but now that there was some he wasn't sure he could handle it. He could feel the eyes of his family on him as he left and heard his mum mumble something about there being lashes on his back, but she too was scared about what the healer might have to tell him on and didn't comment in her usually loud, worried voice. He could see Bill's worried gaze centered on him and for one moment almost broke down and said he couldn't do it. He couldn't stand to hear whether it was good or bad, if Hermione was gone or nearly there. His legs were shaky beneath him and he was surprised when he managed to get all the way out to the hallway.

"Healer Smethwyck is the Healer-in-Charge here at St. Mungo's and he's personally handling Miss. Granger's case," Nora informed him, staring up at him and speaking slowly, as if she wasn't sure he was really hearing her. He supposed he looked pretty dazed, his mind felt as if it were lagging. "Because Miss. Granger is pregnant, they had to be very careful in handling her so not to harm the baby. They had an outside healer that deals with pregnancy come in to make sure the baby wasn't harmed," she explained to him. Her hand rose up to sit on his shoulder and Charlie suddenly felt all the air leave him. His vision blurred and his chin quivered. He stared at her expectantly, terrified that they'd lost the baby. Her expression became very serious, her eyes widening and holding his gaze. "Your little girl is fine so far, Charlie. No damage has been found. She's perfectly healthy, so they're focusing on her mum now."

He let out a choked gasp, his legs giving out. He hit the ground hard, relief flooding him. His little girl-- _Girl_! He felt his heart skip a beat and nearly laughed. His arms tightened around the bag against his chest and he turned his head to one side, happy tears escaping his eyes. He took a long moment to gather himself, his hope raising just a notch. "What about Hermione?" he managed, still kneeling on the floor, hunched over and desperately thankful that his baby girl hadn't been hurt. She was all right so far. But she wasn't out of danger yet.

Nora sighed, kneeling down so she was face to face with him. "They haven't told me anything about her, really. Some of the nurses have mentioned that the bleeding in her shoulder is pretty severe. She hasn't woken up, but they put her under a sleeping draught just in case." She paused, biting her lip a moment. "She's very pretty, Charlie. She looks like the stubborn type, too. Even in her sleep she keeps one of her arms firmly around her stomach."

He nodded, his shoulders loosening a bit. _She is stubborn_, he wanted to tell her. He took a deep breath, moving so he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. His entire body was shaking and he didn't know how to make it stop. His leg was beginning to throb and his temples were aching. Information was swirling around his mind and he wasn't sure what to latch on to. Hermione was alive still, their baby was okay, but there was no guarantee it would stay that way. For now he could be happy with the fact that his daughter was holding on, that Hermione was being stubborn despite the fact that she was unconscious and severely injured. He wanted to thank Nora, but his chin was shaking too much to get anything out, so he nodded again at her.

Nora half-smiled, understandingly. "As soon as I hear anything more, I'll tell you, all right?" She stood up from the floor, looked into the room filled with waiting Weasley's and then looked back down at him. "They look really anxious, Charlie. Best not keep them waiting." She glanced once more at the room and then walked off down the hall, becoming sidetracked by an older man sneaking out of his room.

Charlie stared forward, feeling too shaky to think about getting up off the floor. He didn't even know what to tell his family; the information he'd been given was more of a personal matter. They didn't know anything about Hermione's pregnancy and he wasn't ready to tell them all of it. He was drained and upset, his throat was raw and his face felt tight. Clearing his throat, he forced himself up off the floor, which was hard to do when he wasn't using his arms. He rubbed his face on his shoulder and then walked back into the room, licking his lips as seven sets of eyes turned to him. They had likely seen him in the hallway and he wasn't sure how he was going to explain that away. He could tell from the look on Bill's face that he was having trouble not blurting out his concerns.

"Uh," Charlie said, clearing his throat again. "Healer Smethwyck is heading her case, the bleeding in her shoulder is very severe. They have her under a sleeping draught, even though she doesn't seem to be showing signs of waking up. The nurse said she was holding out stubbornly, but that's all she knows about it," Charlie informed them, hoping it was enough for them to leave him alone.

"Why'd they tell you then?" Ron asked gruffly. "You'd think they'd talk to mum and dad, or even Harry and me."

Charlie glanced at him, his expression tired. "I'm listed as her decision maker for her health," Charlie told him, suddenly feeling very burdened by the title. What if the Healers needed to know whether to just let her go or not? He couldn't make that decision, he would be selfish and keep her alive, even if she never woke up. Just to know she was there, that he could sit by her and hold her hand. He couldn't tell them to let her die peacefully, could he? He couldn't let her go out of choice.

"What?" Ron asked, his voice loud and angry. "You? Why you?"

"Ron," Bill said sharply, glaring at his younger brother. "Is this the time?"

"I think it is," Ron replied, crossing his arms. "Charlie was s'pose to be watching her in the first place. He was s'pose to make sure things like this didn't happen. That's what partners are for," he said, angrily. "And she's practically part of the family, Charlie should be keeping an eye out for her. Now look at all this. I knew she shouldn't have gone to work there. She's holed up, bleeding to death and Charlie's barely got a scratch on him." He rounded on his older brother, glaring at Charlie darkly. "Where the hell were you, eh?"

Charlie stared at him a moment, his expression betraying nothing. "Yeah, Ron, it's my fault," he finally said tonelessly. "Should've been watching her, shouldn't have let her help."

Ron stared at him, obviously confused that Charlie wasn't lashing out back. He opened his mouth to say more but the attention was taken off them when a sudden flux of women rushed inside the room. Charlie turned to see Fleur, Alicia, Angelina, Ginny, Parvati, and Luna looked around, holding Styrofoam cups of tea and staring at the people standing rigidly in the room. Suddenly, Charlie was surrounded by all of them, each of them weeping and trying to hug him. He was more than a little confused and stared over at Bill with a frown. The only girl not crying seemed to be Luna, who was patting his arm and telling him how sorry she was. Fleur was the loudest crying woman, and she kept rubbing his back as if he was the one who needed soothing. Not sure what to say, he just waited for them to stop. Finally, pulling back, they wiped at their faces and gave him watery, understanding smiles.

"What the hell was that?" Ron asked, his voice startled.

As one, the women's faces changed and they looked around at each other and then everybody else. Fred and George were staring at the group of women, perplexed. Arthur was scratching his head while Molly wiped tears off her cheeks and nodded. Harry was shifting on his feet, staring at Luna and then Charlie, his brow lifted, while Ron stood nearby, his arms hanging limply by his sides, his expression twisted with irritated confusion.

"If you love one Weasley, you love all the Weasley's," Luna finally said, her voice rather dreamy as it broke the silence, "We were just worried that Charlie had been hurt, too."

"I'm fine," Charlie said tonelessly, before glancing at Bill and then turning to the door. "I need to make a floo call."

"Charlie, dear," Molly called out, rushing up from her chair and over to him. "Don't you think you should get your back taken care of?" she asked, worriedly. "Your shirts all torn up and I think you're bleeding. Couldn't you stop a nurse or--"

"I'm fine," he told her, turning away again.

"Charlie," she said, her voice hardening. "I realize that you're worried, but you really shouldn't ignore--"

"I said I'm fine," he interrupted, his voice sharp. He was feeling suffocated again and without waiting for his mum's reply, he left the room. He didn't know where he was going, he just walked as far as he could. He didn't have any floo calls to make, the only way to reach the reserve was through owl post. It was all tents, no fireplaces. Besides, he was pretty sure that even if they had managed to get the Ironbelly under control, there was still clean up to do and getting the injured to the medi-tent. He decided to go down to the ground floor, find out if any of the other keepers had been brought in. He leaned against the wall of the lift, ignoring a young woman across from him that kept shooting sly glances in his direction. He stared at the floor, waiting for the ding that would tell him he could leave the small space. She opened her mouth to say something to him when he walked by, but he pretended he hadn't seen her, walking toward the plump, blonde welcoming witch. He cleared his throat to get her attention and bit back a wince when her high voice cheerfully said hello.

"Have any other dragon keepers come in from the Romanian Long Horn Dragon Reservation?" he asked her, his voice lacking any emotion.

She tipped her head before taking in his clothes and nodding. "Oh yes, there were at least four. And another handful who were looking for friends. One real handsome chap, dark hair, quite stocky. Had a foul mouth, though," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Kept shouting, 'Char! Char! Where the bloody dragon shite are yeh?'" she imitated in a pretty good version of Jonas.

"Did you see where he went?" he asked her, turning to look around and see if he could see his friend amongst the crowd in the waiting room.

"Went searching, I suppose. Was grumbling to himself about babies and scale biters," she told him, looking confused.

"Thanks," Charlie mumbled before turning and walking back from where he came.

He took the lift up to the fifth floor to check the visitor's tea room. Scanning the area all he saw were various people chatting at tables and milling around anxiously. He asked one of the men working in the Hospital Shop if they'd seen anybody dressed like him and cursing a lot, to which the man told him he'd seen a bloke who matched the description about a half hour before. He'd taken the lift down again though, so Charlie chose to check the fourth floor, third, and second floors, asking around, only to find that Jonas had been there but then moved on. Giving up, he went back to the first floor, hoping his family would just leave him alone and that he hadn't missed Nora coming by with more news.

As he approached the room he left his family in, he could hear a familiar voice talking, loud and full of energy. Charlie's steps picked up a little until he was standing in the entrance to the room, watching Jonas wave his arms around in the middle of a story. He stopped short when he noticed Charlie and jumped out of his chair. "Charlie! Bloody hell mate, I searched the whole hospital for yeh. Finally found a bunch of red heads just teh hear yeh've run off!" he said, crossing the room to embrace him briefly, smashing his shoulder and asking low enough if he was okay.

Charlie shrugged at him, relieved to see another knowing face. "I was looking for you. Welcoming Witch said you were here so I looked around, seems you left just as I arrived."

Jonas nodded, "Well, we're here now. I was just tellin' yer family 'bout some adventures 'Mione and us have had," he informed him, dragging him back toward the others and falling back into his seat next to Parvati.

"Charlie, why didn't you ever bring your friend here over to visit?" Ginny wondered, smiling at Jonas with flushed cheeks. Charlie rolled his eyes, looking around to see that most of the women in the room were looking quite enraptured by Jonas, even those who were married or engaged. His mum's blush was almost enough to make Charlie laugh, instead he fell into a chair next to Bill and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Go on then, Jonas, tell us more," Ginny encouraged.

"Eh, Charlie, yeh remember that trip we made down teh North Sweden?" Jonas asked him, turning slightly. Charlie nodded. "Wha' were we pickin' up again?" he asked, though Charlie knew he never forgot a dragon.

"Norwegian Ridgeback that Hermione named Sal," he replied, his voice rather thick.

"Yeah, right," Jonas said, nodding. "See, Trent, tha's our reserve admin, he sent me, Char, 'Mione, and Crystal down to pick the lil' guy up."

"He was hardly little," Charlie reminded, shaking his head. "They fed him too much, he was fat and you know it."

"He was a lil' chunky, Char, it was baby fat," Jonas told him, shaking his head.

Charlie rolled his eyes, "He was nearly ten years old, he was no baby."

Jonas laughed, "Whatev'r, he had the heart of a hatchling." Charlie snorted, silently thanking Jonas for being his usual lighthearted self. "Anyway, so this was the first time 'Mione was ever gonna see an adult Ridgeback, our last, Norbert died the year before she signed up with us. She was all excited, kept tellin' us everythin' she knew 'bout 'em. The terrain up teh the reserve was rough though and the bloody keepers fergot teh tell us that they'd set up traps teh keep outsiders away, right. So Crystal took a nasty fly through the air, landed in a tree, trapped by the branches. Charlie got strung up by his legs and I was stuck standing still so I don't go with 'em. 'Mione was tryin' teh pass Charlie her pocket knife when she stepped on a trap and ended up twistin' her ankle. By the time the keepers realized their mistake, three of us were incapacitated and I was bored outta my mind," he told them, grinning. "'Course Mione wasn't one teh be deterred, she ordered Charlie teh carry her the rest of the way teh the reserve and said she'd see the Ridgeback then and no later." He shook his head, his smile softening. "She spent an hour up there with the Ridgeback before Charlie finally convinced her teh get her ankle looked at," he said, chuckling. The people around him were smiling, happily remembering the stubborn witch they knew so well.

Charlie remembered that day well. She was practically bursting with excitement. It was her first trip out to pick up a dragon, usually she hung back and helped take care of them in the reserve, but Jonas talked Trent into letting the four of them go instead of the keepers he had lined up. They portkeyed to a shop down the mountain and were forced to hike up to the reserve, something Jonas balked about the entire time. Hermione refused to fly and since they were told it was only a half hour trek, Jonas and Crystal agreed to talk with them, too. Charlie hadn't yet realized his feelings for Hermione, so they were just friends then. Close friends, but nothing romantic was occurring. The sudden ambush of trip ups and traps caught them off guard and seemed to be over within seconds, leaving them shocked and confused. They were left looking foolish for nearly a half hour before the keepers released the traps and opened the fifty foot wood doors showing them the reserve. After dusting himself off from his fall in the dirt, Charlie helped Hermione up and it didn't take much for her to convince him to carry her the rest of the way. She hopped on his back and he wrapped his hands around her knees on his sides.

The rest of the hike wasn't very far, but to get to the Ridgeback they had to cross the whole of the reserve. He remembered teasing her about how hard it was to carry her, to which she smacked his shoulder and continued telling him how beautiful all of the dragons around them were. It wasn't that different from the Romanian reserve they stayed at, except they had a whole lot more Swedish Short-Snouts. They spent over an hour admiring the Ridgeback, which really wasn't as beautiful as most of the others. It had been overfed, making it lazy and chunky in the middle, a big contrast to the usually lithe and muscular dragons they were used to. It whined at them when ordered to stand up and snorted a puff of fire out of its cage at them boredly. Hermione thought he was 'cute,' and Jonas agreed that he had 'personality'. Crystal and Charlie commiserated over their being completely daft.

When he finally convinced Hermione to see the medi-witch, she made him carry her in the front because she said he was too broad and her legs and arms were tired. Snorting, he carried her up front while she lazed about, making jokes about having him carry her everywhere all the time. Jonas hung around beside them, making jokes about carrying women over thresholds and how they were just the 'cutest couple,' in a childish and high-pitched voice to imitate Crystal. Hermione smacked his arm, warning that she'd feed him to the Sal if he kept it up and since the dragon seemed to eat just about anything, Jonas laughed but left them alone for awhile. When they reached the medi-tent, Crystal informed them that they were going to go and help get the Ridgeback ready, so Jonas shouted back to get it over with and snog already as he rushed after his partner. Charlie remembered now that Hermione had blushed instead of making her usual scathing comment and snorting indelicately. He wondered if she'd already noticed her feelings for him then.

"Tell us another," Ginny asked Jonas, leaning forward on her arms, elbows propped on her knees.

Jonas nodded, glancing at Charlie to make sure he was all right with it. He pondered a moment, then smirked. "Well, few months ago, me, Charlie, an' 'Mione were put on hatchling duty, which is when we take shifts watchin' the eggs in the baby dragon keeps. It was only s'pose to be two of us, but Charlie and 'Mione never work without each other, so they were takin' one shift and I was takin' the other," he told them, leaning back with a grin. "It was late, just finished dinner, I was on my way back to relieve Charlie and 'Mione of their duties when--" Charlie suddenly sat up straight, flushed, and jabbed Jonas in the side, his eyes thinned. Jonas stopped, looking confused and then dawning appeared. "Oh, right, yeah, not really a family story. Er... teh gory fer the lovelies," he said, turning a flirtatious smile at all of the women. "I'll stick teh the PG stuff."

"Wha? I want to hear it!" Ron said, nodding.

"Yeah, who doesn't love gory stories?" one of the twins wondered, lifting a brow.

"Agreed. Girls, cover your ears," the other twin announced, motioning to them and then nodding to Jonas to continue.

Jonas cleared his throat, eyeing Charlie apologetically. "Nah, we should probably stick teh the warm, fuzzy feelin' stories. 'Mione doesn't care for violence anyway, best not tell that one."

Charlie leaned back in his seat, his face still hot. There was no gore involved in that story. Jonas just forgot who he was talking to and what the subject was. Jonas' favorite stories to tell usually had something to do with shagging and women. That story was no different and Charlie really didn't want his family to know about his and Hermione's personal affairs, especially when they didn't know anything was going on yet. He couldn't begin to imagine how Ron would react to the story Jonas had nearly spilled. He closed his eyes, sighing, as he leaned his head back against the wall.

"_Charlie, this so isn't the place for that," Hermione murmured, tipping her head to look at him as he sat behind her, mouth running over her shoulder, nibbling at her warm skin. Pushing her shirt down her shoulder a little further, he traced the white tan line with the tip of his calloused finger, grinning against her neck as she shivered. There was an old long-healed burn a couple inches down her shoulder blade, he knew, he sometimes traced it when she slept beside him._

"_It's not like anybody can see us," he replied, pausing as he kissed up to her throat. "Everybody is at dinner for at least another hour or so, the eggs are still eggs, not even a crack in them. And you..." He grazed his teeth over her neck, his tongue peeking out to taste her. "You look delectable."_

_She chuckled, her arm curving up, hand threading through his hair. "We get off in an hour, can't you wait?" she wondered, both amused and excited._

"_Nope," he replied quickly, his hands slipping down from her knees, fingers dancing over the inside of her thighs. She was dressed in a pair of loose shorts and a t-shirt, her skin damp from how warm it was in the keep for the eggs. It was only spring, but it felt like mid-summer. She was leaning back into his chest, sitting between his legs, with one hand wrapped around his thigh, palm kneading it as she melted into him. He moved one of his hands up her shirt, rubbing her stomach slowly, fingers pulling her closer to him. He could feel her breathing picking up, could tell she was enjoying his mouth against her skin. _

_It had been awhile since they'd had any real time to do anything more than hold hands and share the odd kiss. They'd had a week of watching eggs, nothing but really watching. Newborn hatchlings had to have immediate attention, especially since they'd been taken from their mothers. So the keepers were taking turns watching and it was Jonas' and Charlie's week, though Charlie had talked Hermione into helping him. They could read or talk, but mostly they were left sitting around. The odd keeper would pop in to see how things were going, but otherwise they were left alone. They were used to being active, to doing something, anything, so they were getting a little restless. On top of that, by the time they got back to their tents, they were moody and fairly tired out of boredom. Charlie missed touching her, so he took the initiative to do something a little dangerous._

"_Charlie, Jonas could come back any minute," she muttered, not putting up much of a fight as he started pulling her shirt up._

"_Jonas almost never finishes dinner early," he reminded, tugging her shirt until it was left bunched beneath her arms. His thumb flicked over an indent beneath her ribs, where the horn of a hatchling had caught her and took a small chunk out. He slipped his hand beneath the cup of her bra, making her bite her lip as she wiggled back against him. His other hand squeezed her thigh before turning her sideways, pulling her legs over one of his and balancing her up with the other. She was bent between his legs, face flushed, chest heaving, stomach glistening with sweat and staring up at him with glazed chocolate brown eyes._

_Hermione reached out for him, one hand curling around his neck while the other slipped under his shirt, rubbing his sides as she trailed up, nails grazing his skin. She pulled him down toward her, her mouth meeting his, lips cupping each others, tongue reaching out to taste and twist together. She tasted faintly of the butterbeer she'd had with her dinner and he hoped he didn't taste like the meatloaf he'd had, because he'd covered it in ketchup and he knew how much she hated that. She didn't seem to be disgusted by whatever it was she was tasting, her hands were tugging at his hair in the same way she did when she was really enjoying something he was doing. Her hand slipped around his back, fingers pressing into him, drawing him closer. She shifted between his legs until she was kneeling in front of him, body pressed up against his, skin against skin now that she had his shirt up to his shoulders._

_She murmured his name against his lips as she pushed him back further. He leaned against the wall, shoulders and head against the wood, but his back still angled up off the ground. She slipped her legs over his, curving them around his thighs and pressed down into his lap. He groaned against her mouth, one of his hands sliding down her back, fingertips digging into her skin, sliding against the perspiration glistening on her. Her fingers traced his dragon tattoo without having to see it, fingernails dancing over the well known curves of the carefully designed masterpiece that covered his side. She rotated her hips against him, her breasts brushing against his chest, slow and enticing. "This is so wrong," she said, pulling away from his mouth and kissing down his throat. "There are baby dragons waiting to hatch behind us," she reminded, her hair tickling his chin as she suckled his neck, nipping lightly._

_He laughed, the sound strangled as she continued to brush against his groin, the movement drawing all intelligent thought away from his head. "Well, how d'you think they were even made? It fits in a weird way. I could get philosophical but you feel too good to think," he said grinning._

_Hermione chuckled against his shoulder, her hands resting below his ribs, fingernails pressing into his back as she tightened and released her hold on him in succession with her moving hips. Her breathing was choppy against his collar while her tongue reached out to lick at his heated skin. Charlie's eyes fluttered, his hand slipped down her back to cup her arse, pressing her against him hard. He bit his lip so he wouldn't cry out, his legs thrumming around her, heel digging into the ground beneath them. He whimpered her name, sensations building up in his body, his stomach tightening as she pressed into him harder, arching her back as she trailed her mouth down his chest, tongue teasing his skin._

"_Eh, Charlie, 'Mione, where-- OH!" Jonas said, suddenly appearing next to them and lifting his brows in surprise. "Huh. Well. Carry on then, promise I won' touch."_

"_Jonas," Charlie growled, his hands stopping Hermione's movements against him._

"_Yeah, yeah, I'm goin'." He laughed, "This'll be a great story some day though, eh Char?"_

"_Jonas!" he shouted, closing his eyes tight and frowning._

"_In the position yer in mate, that's a lil' disturbing. Flattering, but... more disturbing than anythin'," Jonas teased, before turning around and exiting the keep._

_Charlie, flushed and breathing heavily, knocked his head back against the wall behind him. "Give me a minute and we'll run to the tent. And yes," he said, holding up a hand knowingly, "you were right. I should've learned my lesson the last time we got caught by Isaiah. Tent only, new rule."_

"_Here anyway," Hermione said, chuckling as she leaned forward to lay her head on his chest. Charlie ran his hand through her hair, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down a little. She smelled good, which wasn't the smartest thing to focus on, given their position. He sighed, he really needed better timing. This was the fourth time they'd been caught outside of their tents, half clothed and ravaging each other. It was fun, but he was getting tired of having to cut it short to run for the tent. She shifted in his lap and he smiled. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted._

Shaking his head, Charlie brought his attention back to the story Jonas was telling his family. "...so then Hermione popped the guy in the jaw fer tryin' teh tell her tha' the hatchling should be put down. She started wailin' on him while he shouted about how all hatchlings should just be burned so there were no dragons anymore. Took three of us teh get her off, Charlie here didn't move a muscle, said the bloke deserved it. After we got 'Mione off, bloke went ahead and started callin' her names while tryin' teh stop his nose from bleedin'. 'Course that pissed Charlie off, so he went at the bloke then and started kickin' the shite out of him. By then we weren't really all that interested in helpin' him though. He'd already put down our dragons and one of our keepers, so we just let Charlie have at him," he said, shrugging. "Good times, yeah?" he asked, turning to Charlie. Charlie simply nodded at him, looking over at the entrance to the room, as if expecting Hermione to come in and chastise Jonas for his swearing or tell them all they worried for nothing.

"Why's it always Charlie and Hermione?" Ron asked, his brow furrowing. "I know they're partners, but isn't she dating some bloke at the reservation?"

"Wherever 'Mione is, Charlie's there," another voice called from the entrance and Charlie looked up to see Crystal walk in. She crossed over and gave him a brief hug before sitting down in Jonas' lap. "The two of 'em have been inseparable for the last two years," she said, reaching out to affectionately pat his shoulder. "Never had a best friend before meself, was surprised to see them two of 'em so close," she admitted, smiling at Charlie sadly. "What's that you got there?" she wondered, pointing to the bag. Always abrupt, that was Crystal. She'd already managed to reveal the fact that he and Hermione were best friends, something his family hadn't known and if they took from it the full meaning, they'd know that he and Hermione were more than just friends. He chose not to focus on that however, instead acting as though it was common knowledge that they had been best friends and kept his face just as expressionless as it had been for longer than he could remember.

Charlie looked down and then up at her. He cleared his throat, "Hermione's things." He suddenly felt very possessive of the bag in his arms, as if he didn't want to share it with them. Didn't want to share _her_ with them.

The room went quiet for a moment before Harry asked, "What's in it?"

Charlie glanced at him, pausing. "Her clothes, locket, gloves, and an elastic." He frowned, "I think she lost her wand back at the reserve."

"Locket?" Ron wondered, lifting a brow.

"Has pictures of her parents in it," he told him, turning his eyes back to the door. It was a Christmas gift he'd given her two years ago, back when they were just starting out as friends. She'd told him about how she spent some time staying in the old, burned up house, mourning her parents, and he found a way for her to keep them close to her heart all the time. He'd poured over the charred photo albums she had in her tent until he found a couple good pictures of the Granger's, then brought them into a jewelry store and asked them how to do it. They fixed it all up for him, gave him the attractive silver necklace, an oval locket holding her parents faces inside, and he'd wrapped it up in colourful paper, rather sloppily, popped a bow on it and gave it to her before they left for his parent's place that Christmas. She'd cried when she saw it, hugged him for nearly as long as his mum did when she missed him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. She said it was the most thoughtful present she'd ever been given and she never took it off after that. She hid it under her keeper's top so it didn't get tarnished or lost, always pressed close to her.

"Let's see it then," his brother urged.

Charlie stiffened, looking back sharply and then down at the bag. "No." His arms tightened around it. He didn't want to see the clothes torn apart and dried blood over all of them. He didn't want to think about her mangled body and see the blood- marred locket of her parents lying there like a blinking sign that he could hope but it was probably pointless.

Ron frowned, "Why not? You know I've never noticed she wore a locket, maybe it was a mix up."

Sometimes, he wondered how his brother managed as an Auror. "They didn't mix it up. I told you she has a locket with her parents in it," Charlie replied, scowling.

"Open it and check," his brother told him, nodding his head.

"If he doesn't want to, he doesn't have to," Bill interrupted, staring at his youngest brother darkly. "Leave it alone, Ron."

"What is it with you two today?" Ron asked them suspiciously. "I didn't even know you were all that close to her, Charlie. And Bill, you only ever see her once every few weeks and on holidays, didn't think you'd be that concerned," he accused angrily.

Bill glared at him, "She's practically a little sister to me, Ron. I've known the girl for years. I get that you're upset but you're not the only one. The rest of us are just as worried--"

"Just as worried?" Ron asked, jumping out of his chair. "What right d'you have to think you're even half as worried as me or Harry? We're her best friends! We know her a lot better than you do. I think we're entitled to be more than a little angry about all of this."

"Will you stop fighting over who has more right to be upset?" Charlie asked tiredly. He was too drained to put up with Ron for much longer. He was at the end of his rope.

Ron turned on him, his face curled in anger as his eyes thinned and his body stood tall and rigid. "You know this is all your fault. If you had been watching her this wouldn't have--"

"I was watching her," Charlie shouted fiercely, standing up from his chair quick enough to make it knock against the wall. He was tired, worked up, his nerves were frazzled, he was in a state of panic over what was happening, and he didn't know anything except that his daughter was alive inside of his fiancée who was still severely hurt. He was surrounded by people who didn't know he was in love with the hurt witch in question, he was being accused by his brother that he didn't care, and he was wracked with guilt over letting her help rope down the Ironbelly to begin with. He'd been clutching Hermione's belongings to his chest for over two hours, his mind kept bringing up moments that he was scared he'd never have again, he couldn't tell anybody how much it hurt, and he desperately missed seeing her. They never spent this much time apart. They were always around each other at the camp, working or just plain spending time together. Whether they were controlling dragons or cuddled up in one of their beds, reading or talking. It had all built up and he desperately had the urge to break something or do something that would get his heart pumping.

"You think it's easy trying to rope down a fucking dragon's head while it spits fire at you and fights off thirty or forty other keepers?" he asked Ron, stepping forward, his chest heaving. "You think I had fun out there? That I was purposely far away her when its tail swung out and caught her? You don't think I tried to help her? To get to her before she hit the ground?" He tightened his jaw, fighting back the urge to push his brother back, angrily. "I tried to talk her out of helping but she was stubborn. Said she'd been doing fine so far, no need to worry. And I trusted her. It wasn't like she'd ever been wrong before. I figured she would get through it and be done for the day. I didn't think she'd get gouged and set on fucking fire, Ron. You think if I knew that I would've let her go out there?" he yelled hoarsely.

"Where's her ring?" Crystal interrupted suddenly.

Charlie turned back to her quickly, shaking his head but she didn't appear to notice.

"What ring?" Ron asked, still glaring at his brother.

"Charlie listed all the stuff in her bag, but where's her engagement ring?" she wondered.

Charlie sighed, his eyes falling shut for a moment. Things were falling apart, quickly. He found himself annoyed with Crystal but couldn't hold onto it for very long, it was his own fault for never pushing the subject with Hermione. They had eleven months to tell the family that they were together but they were selfishly enjoying each other in the dark comfort of their tent, away from curious eyes and overbearing mothers. It wasn't Crystal's fault, though she did have horrible timing.

"Engagement ring?" Ron bellowed, his face darkening to a purplish red.

Crystal winced, "Oops." She stared up at Charlie apologetically while Jonas rubbed the back of his head, shrugging at Charlie.

"Oh my," Molly exclaimed, sounding tearfully happy. Charlie turned to look at her, to find she was staring directly at him, her eyes glimmering with happiness and sudden sadness. "Oh Charlie, I'm so sorry," she murmured, and he knew then that she knew. For how long, he didn't know. But she knew and she understood.

Her last few words were drowned out however, as Ron's shouting overlapped her. "Just when the hell did Hermione get engaged and why didn't I know about it?" Ron asked, turning to Harry. "Did you know?"

Shocked and rather wide eyed, Harry shook his head. "No idea."

"Her boyfriend asked her about a week ago," Jonas informed them when Charlie didn't say anything.

"And she said yes?" Ron asked, loud and high pitched with surprise.

"Way she tells it, she said 'hell yes'," Crystal told him, half-smiling lightly.

"Doesn't sound like her," one of the twins pointed out, lifting a brow.

"Yeah, Hermione's not one for cursing. She's always chastising everybody who does," the other twin said, smiling reminiscently.

"It was a joke, she was imitating her boyfriend," Crystal explained, frowning. "He curses from time to time, she was making light of it. I'm sorry, why is it a bad thing that she's engaged? I would think you'd be happy for her," she said, shaking her head in confusion at Ron's angry pacing.

His face was darkening to a bright red, while he tightened and released his jaw, crossing and uncrossing his arms. "We're her best friends and we've never even met the bloke and now she's engaged to him. What if he's not right for her? How long have they even been together anyway? She's acting rash, I don't like it one bit. It's not like her at all."

"She's in love," Jonas pointed out, shrugging. "Eh, I've known her for three years and I've never seen her happier than when she's with Ch—, er, her boyfriend," he said, clearing his throat and casting a quick glance at Charlie who had taken his seat again. "I dunno how long they've been tehgether. They were friends for a year or so, been datin' ever since."

"Eleven months," Charlie said, staring at the floor with his jaw clenched. "And she's not acting rash. She's happy with him, they love each other," he told his brother, rather irritated. He really disliked talking about himself as if he were somebody else entirely. Made him feel foolish. More than that, he disliked having to defend how he and Hermione felt about each other and whether their getting engaged was right or not. He didn't give a fuck whether Ron approved, but he was rather annoyed that his brother seemed to have a problem with it.

Ron snorted derisively. "How much could she love him if she never introduced him to us then, hm?" he asked, frowning and shaking his head.

"Charlie's never introduced you to his girlfriend, d'you think he doesn't really love her?" Bill asked, looking up from the floor. "Just because you haven't been formally introduced to her fiancé doesn't mean she doesn't love him. From what I know, the two of them are very close. Inseparable, really." He grinned rather knowingly at Charlie felt a little better about his relationship being defended and relaxed into his chair.

"You've met him?" Ron asked, his face flushing.

Bill sighed, rolling his eyes and looking at Charlie with exasperation. "Heard about him in a few letters. Never been introduced or anything," he said, shrugging.

"She _writes_ you?" he exploded again.

Bill ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. "Take a breath, Ron, please. Yes, she's written me a few times. Why is that a problem?"

"Because she's writing you about her boyfriend but she'll hardly tell us more than that she's very happy and he's a good man. She then tells us that it would be a breach of privacy to come visiting without warning and that she wouldn't appreciate us interrupting her love life. But, oh, she can write you and have no problem with it. And Charlie gets to meet him because they work together. She doesn't bring him to meet us, doesn't tell us anything personal. It's like she's purposely trying to hide him from us!" he ranted, throwing his arms around.

"Probably just doesn't want to deal with you like this," one of the twins called out teasingly.

"Yeah, if I were her, I wouldn't go out of my way to talk relationships if you act like this," the other added, grinning. "You'd think you were jealous or something, Ickle Ronnie."

Charlie stiffened, his eyes raising to stare at Ron darkly. Did his brother still have feelings for Hermione? He'd known that Ron had a thing for her years ago and he sometimes wondered if it were still true, but his actions now did somewhat remind Charlie of jealousy. He didn't think he could deal with Ron's jealousy or anger at him for "taking" Hermione from him, which only furthered his reasoning that it wasn't the right time to tell them about his and Hermione's relationship. He scowled at Ron, keeping his opinion on the whole thing to himself. He had enough on his mind to deal with.

Ron rolled his eyes, snorting. "I am _not_ jealous. She's my best friend, I'm just worried about who she got herself tied up with. She's being secretive and I don't like it. Now she's engaged to a bloke we don't even know the name of. What's next? She pregnant too?" he spat, scowling.

Charlie slunk low in his seat and Bill turned quickly to him, his eyes widening. Charlie avoided Bill's eyes, staring off, but then caught his mother's gaze and realized she was covering her mouth with her hand in shock. Charlie stared at her, unsure how to feel about his mum knowing. She didn't look angry or upset, just surprised, and then her face melted and she began crying. A smile was present on her face before it suddenly wavered, realizing the predicament that Hermione was still in and what it could mean. Her legs suddenly moved and Charlie thought she was going to run over and hug him, but she restrained herself when Ron stomped past her, still muttering to himself.

"Charlie, can I talk to you outside for a minute?" Bill asked, staring at him seriously. Charlie nodded, standing up from his chair and following his older brother out. As soon as they were out of hearing range from the room, Bill rounded on him. "Is she? Are you two...?" he asked, staring searchingly at Charlie.

Swallowing, Charlie nodded, "Found out this morning, so it wasn't... It wasn't about the baby, the engagement. I asked her a week ago, we were planning on telling everybody everything this weekend, but..." He took a shaky breath, turning his eyes away for a moment. "I thought she lost it, when she was thrown up in the air. I thought..." His chin shook so he clenched his jaw in hopes that it would stop. "Earlier, that nurse who came by, she told me the baby was fine. So far, anyway..." He sniffled quickly, trying to cover it by coughing. He blinked rapidly to clear his eyes and then looked at Bill, who was grinning. "It's a girl," he told his brother, a small laugh escaping him.

Bill laughed suddenly, reaching out and hugging Charlie quickly, patting his shoulder roughly. "You're gonna be a dad," he told him, happily. "And... I'm going to be an uncle! How great is that?" he exclaimed excitedly.

Charlie nodded, trying to smile but failing. "What if..." he choked out, shaking his head.

Bill shook his head at him, ruffling his hair as if he were much younger than twenty-eight. "Don't think like that, little brother. I know it's getting tiresome, but Hermione really is strong. She wouldn't give up. Not when she's got a family to take care of." He grinned broadly, knocking Charlie's shoulder again. "I can't believe you're having kids before I am."

Charlie snorted, shaking his head. "Obviously you aren't working at it hard enough," he said, managing a half-smile.

Bill laughed, "No, that's not it. You're just putting in a whole lot more overtime. I'm guessing that story you didn't want Jonas to tell wasn't really gory," he teased, smirking.

Charlie flushed, clearing his throat. "I should probably tell them. About Hermione and me, and the baby and... just... _everything_," he said after a moments pause. "Shouldn't I?" He shook his head, looking off down the hall. "I'm scared, Bill. I really am and I don't want to have to pretend that I'm fine, because I don't think I'm doing a very good job."

Bill nodded, "Tell them whatever you want to tell them, Charlie. If you want them to know then go ahead, if you want to wait then do that. But don't focus on it so much, it'll only drive you mental."

Charlie nodded, his eyes falling to the floor, "You go ahead, I need a minute."

Bill nodded at him understandingly before squeezing his shoulder and walking back to the room. He glanced back at Charlie as his younger brother leaned against a wall and slid down to sit quietly. He wasn't sure how to take a scared Charlie, didn't know how to reassure him. His brother was rarely the type who needed an encouraging word or even a hug. He was the one offering the shoulder to lean on or the comforting grin. He was the one who coaxed people out of their shells and into a game of Quidditch or Wizards Chess. He rarely fell into a funk that nobody could reach him in. Bill had never seen his brother so despondent before, restless and empty was an expression that seemed stuck on his face now where in the past it never really appeared. When Bill walked back into the room, he found everybody as they were, Ron was still pacing and muttering.

Bill took his seat next to Fleur, turning to smile at her as she squeezed his hand.

"Eez Charlie, okay?" she wondered, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I don't know," Bill replied quietly. "I don't think so."

"'E loves her very much, 'e must be very scared. I don't theenk I could 'andle it if it were you and I were stuck 'ere waiting," she said, wrinkling her nose and sighing. "Eez it true zen? Eez she...?" Fleur motioned delicately to her stomach, her eyes watching to make sure nobody had noticed.

Bill nodded. "It's a girl," he whispered to her, smiling.

"Oh!" she said, gleefully. "Zat is wonderful!" Her expression fell quickly though and she looked up at Bill worriedly, "But 'er 'ealth. Are zey sure that zah baby is...?"

"For now," Bill admitted, frowning. "All Charlie knows is that the baby is fine so far and as long as Hermione pulls through, their daughter will be fine." He didn't want to think about how hard it must be for his brother to deal with it all. Not only could he lose his fiancée but he could lose his daughter, too. His family's life hung in the balance and Charlie wasn't coping well. He wondered how he would handle it and looked at Fleur, feeling a pang in his chest. He really did love her. Despite the fact that they were both a little too arrogant for their own good and selfishly wanted to spend a few years just with each other before having kids, he'd always imagined one day they'd become more selfless and enjoy the comfort of a family together. He couldn't begin to imagine how much it would hurt to not only possibly lose his wife, but his child, too. He sighed, feeling sorry for his brother and selfishly wishing he never had to deal with the same predicament.

Fleur nodded slowly, a smile reappearing. "You know what zat means, do you not?" she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.

Bill's brow furrowed, "No, what?"

"When your muzzer 'ears about zis, she will want more grandbabies and who will she look at? Why, us, of course!" she reminded, her brows lifting with accusation. "So, you best remember zat for later!" she told him, nodding with a mischievous smile.

Bill grinned, "Right, we'll get started as soon as there's time," he agreed, leaning in to kiss the side of her mouth. He brushed his lips against hers, faint and light, barely touching but making her shiver all the same. She smelled faintly of flowers and vanilla and her lips were soft against his. He grinned when he found he could still make her blush from a simple kiss.

"Where's her fiancé anyway? Shouldn't he be here? Hermione's being treated for serious injuries and he's nowhere to be found. What kind of husband is he gonna be?" Ron ranted, pacing the floor once more and shaking his head furiously.

Bill sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Give it a rest," Bill told him, wrapping his arm around Fleur as he glared at his youngest brother. "Just because he's not in the room doesn't mean he's not in the hospital," he covered easily, shaking his head.

"If he's so close to her, then why is Charlie the person in charge of her health?" Ron asked, ignoring his brother altogether. Sometimes, Bill hated the fact that Ron was an Auror. He may be slower than some, but he caught up eventually and he never let go of something if he thought it was out of place. He was good at his job.

"Could have been done ages ago, when they first became partners," Parvati told him, picking at her nails. "D'you think Charlie would be interested in an interview?" she wondered, tipping her head, thinning her eyes, the cogs working. "Hermione is still big news and he knows her better than most. He knows exactly how it went down, too, I bet it'd make for a great story."

"No," Bill told her stiffly. She jumped at Bill's voice and he realized he had been a lot more sharp than he meant to. He sighed, trying to smile at the young reporter. "I really don't think this is the time for you to turn reporter, Parvati. There's a lot going on and asking questions will just make matters worse."

"She's just trying to do her job," Ron defended, scowling at his brother.

"Yeah, well her job happens to be one that causes more damage than help," Bill told him, frowning.

Ron sighed dismissively, crossing his arms petulantly. "It's not like Charlie hasn't already discussed it with mum and dad, it couldn't hurt for him to tell Parvati about it."

"It could hurt and it will, Ron, just drop it," Bill ordered, his tone loud and warning. He was already thinking of the darkness creeping into Charlie's eyes when he'd been talking about how scared he was that Hermione would lose the baby when she flew through the air, he didn't think he could handle talking about the whole of it.

"No, Ron, Bill's right," Parvati said, nodding. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. The reporter part clicked on and I forgot that well..." She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "I won't ask him, I didn't mean to..." she trailed off, frowning sadly.

Bill waved his hand, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. I didn't mean to snap."

"I think there's something going on Fred," George said, leaning forward and thinning his eyes.

"Yes, something very curious is happening," he agreed, nodding.

"Seems some of us know more than others, I'd say."

"More indeed. But what about? And who knows it?" Fred looked around, twisting his mouth in question. "I'd say the women know... and Bill. They look suspicious, like they're sitting on a real big one, George. What d'you s'pose it is?"

"I dunno, brother, but I think Ickle Ronnie wants to know," he said, leaning back, grinning.

Ron scowled, turning around to glare at Bill and then searched the faces of all the women in the room, who were looking away uncomfortably. "What's going on? What is it you're all hiding?" he asked, accusingly.

"Yes, do tell," Fred said, smirking. "Share with the family, it's not nice to keep secrets."

Jonas cleared his throat, "Maybe we should just wait for Charlie teh get back, yeah?" he asked, lifting his brow. "This really isn't the place for this anyway. Crystal, babe, why don't yeh and the other lovelies go get us some tea?" he suggested. All together, the women jumped up, taking notice of the escape he'd provided.

"Parvati," Ron ground out, frowning. "I really don't want tea, why don't you come tell me what it is you know that I don't?"

"That could take awhile," George called out, smiling.

"Ron, dear, leave it alone, this isn't the time," Molly chastised, shaking her head as she frowned.

"You know too, mum?" he asked, his brows lifting before he scowled. "Come on, what is it? Why can't the rest of us know?" he whined angrily.

"I don't even know how the girls know," Bill said, shaking his head as he looked around curiously. "I thought Fleur and I were the only ones." He sighed, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. If you were supposed to know, you would. Leave it alone, Ron, please."

"No," Ron replied, shaking his head and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "No, I'm tired of this. Ever since I got here Charlie's been acting funny, nobody'll tell me what's goin' on with Hermione, and now there's some big secret that I don't know. Well, I'm not gonna just sit around and pretend like everything's fine. I'm sick of waiting!" he shouted, his shoulders shaking.

"We all are, Ron," Parvati said softly, crossing to wrap her arms around his shoulders. "We know you're just worried, it's okay to be scared."

Ron didn't reply, resting his chin on her shoulder and wrapping his arms loosely around her waist. "Will you tell me later then?"

"Maybe," she said, her voice sweet as she rubbed the back of his head.

"So that's it then, we're all just going to pretend most of us don't know something?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Yeah," Bill said, nodding.

The girls went off to get tea for everybody and Bill sat in the waiting room chair, glancing at the door every few minutes, wondering when Charlie was going to come back. He'd been in the hall awhile and Bill was rather worried about what he might be doing on his own. He wasn't in his element and that usually meant trouble. Charlie didn't deal with grief and fear on a regular basis and Bill wasn't sure what he'd do with the new emotions. Tapping his foot on the floor, he crossed and uncrossed his arms worriedly. When the girls came back, he looked up to Fleur as she sat down. "Did you see Charlie out there? How was he?" he asked anxiously. He didn't want to go out and bother him, his brother had said he wanted a minute and Bill didn't want to be overwhelming.

"Oh Beel," she said, shaking her head sadly. "'E was just seeting zere, staring at zah floor, 'olding zat bag to 'is chest," she told him, lifting her tea to sip it demurely. "I don't theenk 'e even noticed we were walking by. We were loud, too. Parvati was arguing wiz zat Luna girl about whose paper was more accurate," she said with a dainty shrug. "But 'e didn't flinch or anyzing, just kept staring at zah floor." She wrapped her hand around his and nuzzled his shoulder, sighing softly. "What weel 'appen eef she does not make it, Beel?"

Bill swallowed thickly, he couldn't answer that question. He didn't want to think of the answer. He was about to get up out of his chair when Charlie came into the room, pale and tired looking. "Uh," he managed, clearing his throat. "I... I have to make a trip to the reserve." He tightened his jaw for a moment. "Crookshanks hasn't been fed yet and he's on a strict schedule, so..."

Bill shook his head, "Charlie, why don't you let me do that? I'll portkey over, pick up some clothes for both of you," he said, motioning for him to sit down. Charlie was still dressed in the black body suit he wore as a keeper and large boots. The back was torn up from something lashing open the fabric and blood could be seen dried against it when light hit him from certain angles. There was a lot of it, mixed in with the dirt that stained his legs and arms, too. He was a mess. Bill thought it was smart not to point out just how messy he really was, that his hands were stained a browney-red and his neck was smudged with her blood. He was surprised nobody else had pointed it out, but then they were all doing a pretty good job of avoiding anything but so-called optimism. The underside of Charlie's jaw was reddish brown, a smear crossed his cheek, it was everywhere.

Charlie was staring at the ground, a dazed expression on his face. "No," he said, shaking his head. "No, Hermione feeds Crookshanks a certain way. Scoop of wet food, then dry food, pour the juice out from the can, then wet food again. You can't mix it or he won't eat it. He's very particular like that." He nodded, blinking rapidly before he choked out, "And it's Thursday, so he gets one of his treats. She hides those because he always seems to find them." He cleared his throat, his arms tightening around the bag. "And you wouldn't know what to grab for her to wear. She'll be sore and uncomfortable and she'll only want to wear a certain pair of pajama pants and her favorite jersey, nothing else will do."

"See, this is what I mean," Ron muttered. "Shouldn't her boyfriend be doing these things?" The women of the room glared at him before sighing with annoyance. "What?" he asked, frowning.

"I could go, Charlie," Crystal offered, standing up. "I know the outfit you're talking about, I think. The old Gryffindor Quidditch jersey, right? Seeker _and_ capt'n, pretty impressive," she said with a small wink. "And the blue pajama pants with the rip in 'em?" she asked, squinting her eyes in thought.

"Tear in the knee," he said, nodding, still staring at the floor.

"I'll go with her, Char. I can feed the beast, had teh do it tha' time yeh and 'Mione had teh travel out of camp fer a few days. Know exactly how the furball likes it. I'll take care of it, mate, no worries," Jonas assured, standing up with Crystal. "I'll cast a summoning charm teh find the treats," he added as he walked across the room, patting Charlie's shoulder before he left. "Hold up, Char."

"You should sit down, Charlie, you don't look so good," Angelina called out, frowning. "D'you want some tea? Have ya eaten t'day?"

"Had an early lunch with Hermione," he replied, leaning back against a wall. "Did you know she hates ketchup?" he asked, though he didn't sound as if he expected an answer.

"Yeah," Harry said, chuckling. "I forget every time we go out to eat. Pass her the ketchup whenever she has chips, she always frowns at me, tells me I don't listen to her enough." He smiled lightly, nodding. He ran hand through his hair, clearing his throat. "Been awhile since we had lunch," he admitted quietly.

"We've all been busy," Ron noted, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. "Don't get to see her much now that she works over at the reserve," he muttered frowning.

"She loves the reserve," Charlie spoke up, sounding rather defensive. "She loves the dragons."

"Look where that got her," his brother spat back, scowling. "Soon as she's outta here, she's never setting eyes on another bloody dragon again!"

Charlie glared at him, his jaw tightening. "She's going back there, Ron. Whether you like it or not, as soon as she's feeling better she's going back to the reserve." He shook his head, "You've never seen her face light up when she sees the new hatchlings. You've never been there to hear her talk to them, to see her connect with them. You don't know what it's like for her to work there. She loves her work. And yeah, she got hurt. But she's going to be fine," he said through grit teeth, his eyes glittering.

"You don't know that," Ron muttered crossly.

"Yes, I do," he replied quietly, nodding his head, his tears finally spilling over.

Bill sat back, swallowing thickly, knowing his brother was about to admit to falling apart, to being scared, to loving Hermione.

Charlie lifted his eyes, staring at Ron. He let out a heavy, mournful sigh. "Because I promised to read to her when her eyes got bad and she didn't want glasses. And I told her that if she wanted we'd fix up the house down from the reserve so mum wouldn't start in about how we couldn't have a family if we kept dragons. I told her we'd have a garden to de-gnome and that I'd check all the doors before we went to bed at night." He swallowed audibly, shaking his head, "And she promised a small wedding, probably in the back of the Burrow, with just family and friends. She wanted to honeymoon somewhere where nobody could find us, with sandy beaches and a cool breeze. And we agreed that we weren't giving up dragons, not even when she found out she was nine weeks pregnant this morning."

He inhaled shakily, tears still slipping down his cheeks as he stared at Ron. "Today was her last day, there was no keeper to take her place so she was going to be done when our shift was over. I tried to talk her out of it, said we were lucky the past couple months but we shouldn't risk it. She told me she'd be fine. She'd managed so far, she could go one more day. We got called in to help with the Ironbelly and I told her she should stay, but she told me it would only take a little while and then she'd take the nap I kept telling her she should take."

He paused, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing irregularly, looking as if he was trying not to sob. "She was working near Crystal, about the Ironbelly's middle. She was doing better than most, charming the ropes down quickly and moving on. The tail caught her off guard, she'd been avoiding it well enough but it came out of nowhere and she caught it in the shoulder. I was too far away, I couldn't do anything. She wrapped her arms around her stomach mid-air, curling into herself in hopes of keeping the baby safe. Crystal shot a cushioning charm but the slowing charm was thrown off balance when she had to turn her attention back to the dragon. I tried to get to her when she hit the ground, but the dragon turned on us." He swallowed, his jaw flexing. "Jonas pulled me down right before a shot of fire exploded above me. When it let up I went searching for her, found her in a heap, unconscious and holding her stomach. I picked her up and got her here as fast as I could."

His eyes dropped, centering on the floor again and Bill's arm tightened around Fleur, suddenly very grateful that she was next to him and completely healthy.

"A nurse informed me that I was her stand-in family member, that I make the final decision on her health. She promised to tell me when anything happened, if she heard anything. So she came to tell me earlier that my little girl is fine, her mother's not doing so well, but my daughter is alive so far," he choked out, nodding. "We were going to tell you this weekend."

"Oh Charlie," Molly cried before she was out of her chair and across the room. Her arms wrapped tight around her son, her face burying against his shoulder. She rubbed his back, murmuring soothing words. Bill watched from the side, feeling Fleur shake against him as she turned to bury her face against his next, crying softly. He watched Charlie crumble for the second time in one day, his eyes closing and his body slumping forward. Molly held him up, strong and loving, rubbing his shoulders and smoothing his hair. "It's gonna be okay, my little boy. She's gonna make it through this," she promised, kissing the top of Charlie's head as he cried against her shoulder.

Bill gazed around the room, seeing dreamy Luna Lovegood wrap her arms tight around Harry, her hand running slowly through his hair as she wiped a single tear from her cheek. Parvati was holding Ron's arm, her hand running up and down the length of it soothingly. Angelina was leaning into Fred, holding his hand tight and nuzzling his neck, whispering something to him. Alicia was hugging George, her arms around his middle and her head on his shoulder, kissed his neck and rubbed his stomach while George rested his chin on her head. And Bill was struck with the fact that the Weasley's had good taste in women, always strong, comforting forces that knew when to hold and when to argue. They didn't comment, didn't do anything except hold their counterparts and soothe away the fear and worry. One of their own was hurting, another was in danger of dying, and the family didn't fall apart but came together. Ron didn't lash out, didn't take his brother to par for keeping it a secret or accuse them of lying to the family. He took in Charlie's grief, sat back and accepted that maybe somebody other than him and Harry could love Hermione so much that it physically hurt to think she was in pain.

"Charlie," a rather high, feminine voice called. The room stilled, turning to look at the door to see the nurse from earlier. "Healer Smethwyck needs to talk to you," she informed him, giving him a soft, unreadable smile.

* * *

**A/N**_ Hey guys. Wow... I updated this **a lot** earlier than I expected to. I'm so glad so many are enjoying this and the reviewers coming in are **so** encouraging. Since I'm more known as a Dramione writer and only have a few that venture away from that, I was almost sure that most of my readers just weren't going to be interested in reading Charlie/Hermione, since there's so little known about him. But I'm really very flattered by how much faith you had in me to give this a try, because some of you really weren't interested in the pairing but gave it a try anyway. So thank you and I hope you continue to enjoy the story. There are two more parts and Epilogue to come!_

_Be sure to check out the chapter images to this story on my author page:D_

_Thank you for reading! Please leave a review, it's greatly appreciated.  
Much Love,  
**-Amanda**_


	5. Part Five: A Dragon Keeper's Guilt

**Review offering insight to the story**:

_"Honestly, I have only read one or two Charlie//Hermione fics that have been anywhere close to realistic or well written. Yours skyrockets past amazing. The way you make every character so well rounded, they all have faults, and strong points. Every character has depth, especially your originals. That's one of the most important things I think. Because a lot of fics have original characters to serve as placeholders. Yours all have places in the story just as the canons do. Keep doing amazing._" - _**So this is love**_ of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _clena, ginsensu, Celtic-Dragon-89, bella1305pickles, ShatteredTruth, Jester08, Galleon-to-Galleon, CraZIEdUCKIE, Ellie Siri Black, BBRuth, Mrs.Malfoy-Zabini, bethygirl94, anglbby989, Charlie Rulz, Black Mirror, KandyFloss, **Agar Loki, MsRisa, ss dawn, wifelady21, ProperT, wasu, mskiti**,** So this is love, SemiZealotish, Coquetry**_ and _especially __**Filette**_, _**CrystalizedHeart**__ (Mel)_ and **_galloping-goose_**.

**Warning**:_ Strong language._

-

_**Only In The World of Dragons**_

_Part Five – A Dragon Keeper's Guilt_

Charlie followed Nora out into the hallway, finding three St. Mungo's Healers dressed in the customary lime green with an older woman wearing light blue scrubs, smiling kindly at him. He stopped in front of them, his shoulders tight and his face tired. His feet wanted to run, were itching beneath him to get away from them as quickly as possible Their expressions were serious, not grim but not happy either. He supposed that it came with the job however, or hoped that was all it was and it had nothing to do with Hermione. He cleared his throat, nodding his head in greeting, not sure how well his voice would work if he tried talking.

"Mr. Weasley, I'm Healer Smethwyck," a man in his late fifties with a grey beard and rather beady eyes said. He moved to hold out his hand but then stopped, seeming to take into account how tightly Charlie's arms were braced around the bag on his chest. He clasped them in front of him and then nodded his head to the woman at his right. "This is Obstetrician Healer Matthews, she flooed over to take care of your fiancée and daughter." She nodded her head at him, light brown eyes with crow's feet and a warmth to them that reminded him of his mum stared up at him. She was quite short, barely reaching his shoulders. "And these two are Healers Pye and Brûler," he introduced the other two men standing with him.

Charlie nodded at them, swallowing audibly. "H-How are they?" he asked, his jaw tightening with fear. He could hear his heartbeat in his head, drowning everything out. He was fairly sure time slowed down, as if giving him one quick moment to gather himself for the answer. And then the Healer was talking and Charlie was holding his breath, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest.

"Healer Brûler dealt with the fire damage to her back. She'll naturally have a lot of light scarring, but she should heal with no obvious aftereffects. She is going to be on her side for some time though," Smethwyck began.

"Which is good for her, especially since it's the left side," Matthews interrupted, nodding. "We considered laying her on her stomach, but for now we think it's best to keep her levitated off her stomach. There's some bruising around her side and we don't want to put any more pressure on the baby."

Smethwyck nodded shortly at her and then turned back to Charlie, "Her right shoulder was dislocated but it's back in place now. Her right wrist was also twisted but it should be healed within a few days after the potions we've used kick in," he informed him. "What worried us most was the gouge in her shoulder. It seemed the talon went straight through, tearing up a lot in its wake."

"But you could repair it, right?" Charlie asked, his voice hoarse. "I know she was bleeding heavily but you have blood replenishing potions, don't you?"

"The hole in her shoulder was very thick but luckily missed anything vital," Healer Pye told him, sighing. "She lost a lot of blood and the replenishing potions could only do so much. She had a severe concussion and the trauma to her shoulder caused her heart to stop pumping for a little while." He paused, his expression becoming grim. "She's slipped into a coma, Mr. Weasley. Now, there's no reason to believe she won't come out of it," he told him hastily. "We got her heart beating as quickly as possible, we treated her concussion, and we stopped the bleeding."

Charlie's head was swimming. _Coma_? "How long before you think she'll wake up?" he managed, his shoulders falling.

"There's no telling," Healer Brûler told him, shaking his head. "She could wake up within the hour or the week or... possibly never," he admitted, frowning.

Charlie nodded, his eyes falling to the ground. His vision was blurred, eyes tight and stinging. He chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering what else he could ask. Hermione would know what kind of questions needed answering. She'd prod them for more information, probably have them explain in full detail exactly what they had already done and what they were planning to do in future. But Hermione was the one in the coma and Charlie felt inadequate in asking how to help her. "Can you do anything else for her?" he asked, his voice scratchy. He lifted his eyes, staring at them. "There has to be something. A potion, a spell, something."

"We've done everything we can, now all there is to do is wait," Healer Smethwyck told him, nodding.

"Right," Charlie murmured emptily. "Wait." Looking up from the floor, he asked, "Can I see her?"

"Yes, of course, Nurse Nora can bring you there," he replied, glancing at the woman waiting off to the side.

Charlie nodded, before turning to leave he glanced briefly at the room he had come out of. "Uh, there are a group of people waiting to hear about her. I don't think... I wouldn't be able to explain it. D'you think you could tell them what you just told me?" he asked Smethwyck before glancing at the other three healers.

"Of course," the man replied shortly, walking toward the entrance to the waiting room.

"Thank you," Charlie told them, following Nora down the hall a few steps. "For everything. I really... Just, thank you." He nodded at them, before turning and hurrying to catch up to the nurse who was waiting at the end of the hall. Walking down the quiet halls, Charlie felt a sense of panic set in. He passed room after room where patients sat with family and friends, each of them awake and waving their hands as if explaining how it is they landed in the creature attack ward. The farther they went, the darker the rooms were. Most of the patients were sleeping or sitting quietly with nobody to tell their stories to. Charlie's feet faltered as they reached the end, a door marked with, "Granger-Weasley," on the front. He wondered if it referred to his daughter or the impending marriage but didn't question it, instead pausing in front of the door. "They're going to want in as soon as they can," he murmured to Nora standing nearby.

"Would you like some time alone with her? I can inform them that you need some time alone with her. In fact," she said, picking up a watch from the pocket of her scrubs. "Visiting hours are almost over."

Charlie stiffened, "Does that mean I have to..."

Nora shook her head, "No. You're authorized to stay with her. I can have a bed set up for you in here, if you like."

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

She sighed, "I don't know you well, Charlie Weasley, but even I can tell you're not fine," she said, before turning away and leaving.

He listened to the echo of her retreating footsteps while eyeing the little tag in front of him. "Granger-Weasley," stared back at him at eye-level. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the door. All he had to do was was walk inside and she'd be right there. He could touch her, hear her steady breathing, see for himself that she was alive. Shakily, he let his arm release from the bag he was holding, dropping to wrap his hand around the cold handle of the door. Just a quick flick of the wrist, he thought. He swallowed, his throat dry and burning. He'd never put off anything in his life. He was the first to do anything, but now he paused. She was laying in the room, bandaged and broken, and he wasn't sure if he could handle knowing that she wasn't going to just open her eyes and smile up at him tiredly. He figured that if she lived, he'd be able kiss her and hold her and tell her that she wasn't allowed out of bed for the next seven months. He'd never once thought that if she lived she simply wouldn't wake up. His back ached, staving off the shaking he felt running through him. Closing his eyes, he told himself to get it together. He wrangled dragons for bloody sakes, turning a door handle was nothing.

Gritting his teeth, he turned the handle, letting the door slowly creak open in front of him. The room was dark, a faint light slipped over her from one side. The curtains were closed, keeping out the moonlight. She was on her left side, her right wrist bandaged as it hung over her stomach, curled protectively around her waist. A crisp white blanket covered her, her arm hanging over it. Her head was propped by pillows with her right arm curled beneath them and her head. Her hair was messy around her, a tendril hanging over her cheek. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and stepped inside on shaky feet. Closing the door behind him, he made his way over to her bed. He fell into a chair next to her, clutching the bag of her things to his chest with one arm and reaching out with the other. His arm quivering in the air, fingers skimming her cheek as it slowly moved the curl from its position over her pale face. There was a faint scrape across her cheek, pink and sore looking. He ran his knuckles down her face, starting near her eye and ending at her chin. She was warm to the touch, smooth and comforting. The five freckles on the bridge of her nose stood out in contrast to how pale she was opposed to how tanned he was used to seeing her.

Charlie ran the tips of his fingers down her arm, barely touching her, awed by her mere presence so close to him. Finally. Faint gooseflesh appeared on her arms and he thought he saw her shiver but couldn't be sure. Licking his lips, he ran the pads of his thumb over her forearm, brushing against an old burn. His fingers stopped for a moment when they found the beginnings of her bandages, white and tight around her wrist. He pulled her hand gently from around her waist, meeting resistance for a moment before she relaxed, as if knowing it was him, and let him take her hand. He brought it up to his face, kissing the palm softly, before burying his eyes against her hand. He let out a shuddering breath, leaning closer to kiss down her forearm, his mouth unsteady and shaking against her. He wrapped her arm around his head, her fingers limp in his hair as he pressed his face into the nook of her elbow. Tears slipped from his eyes silently, his back shaking and his body shuddering as he kissed her damp arm, crying against her. She didn't flinch, didn't hold him tighter like she would have if she were awake. She didn't run her hands through his hair, rubbing his neck or whisper soothing words against him. She just lay there, fast asleep, limp and unresponsive. He murmured her name against her skin, as if expecting her to respond and wake up, to tell him it was all a mistake. The healers obviously didn't know her, because there was no way she would've slipped away from him like they said.

He remembered her, always so vibrant and energized, ready to take on the world.

"_No, Charlie, this is the best part," she told him, frowning. He grinned up at her while he laid comfortable beneath her on the bed. She was sitting in his lap, braced against his curved legs, holding a book out in front of her. He was rubbing the palms of his hands up and down her thighs, while she studiously continued to read from the book. "He goes on to say, and I quote, of course, 'Dragons have no real purpose in the world. They supply us with very few important potion materials, things we could certainly replace with other much more safe subjects. It would seem that we are only supplying the less intelligent and more abrasive of Wizarding kind with a job, rather than thinking of what could benefit us in the future. Should we dispose of the vicious lizards? Then we'd be doing the Wizarding world a service. Let the idiots who keep them take night classes to enhance themselves for something more meaningful...' Can you believe that tosser?" she raged, shaking her head. "Less intelligent and more abrasive. I'd like to introduce him to Sal!" she told him, tossing the tome to the side. "I hope he caught fire for that book!" she continued to mutter under her breath while Charlie stared up, amused._

"_I don't know why you're getting so worked up. Bloke died like a century ago," he told her, pushing the book off the side of the bed. "And obviously, us simple folk are still keeping dragons," he joked, half-smiling._

"_You are not simple folk," she replied, wrinkling her nose. "He just doesn't understand the strategic thinking and intelligence it takes to care for dragons. I mean, you have to have serious insight to what they're thinking, doing, considering doing. They're not stupid. They know when they're being led to their cages or fed or used for breeding. They're incredible creatures and the people that take care of them are just the same. I'd wage the intelligence of some of the keepers have here against any Ministry employee any day!" she claimed, throwing her arms up heatedly. "Dragon keepers react on instincts and survival, that's an intelligence that is bred from thousands of years ago. It's what keeps people alive and thriving. Were it not for the intelligence of dragon keepers and everybody like them, society would never have prospered. They'd all have died off. Eaten or starving!" she ranted, her face flushing with the injustice. "And him! UGH! Talks about it as if it's the easiest thing, too. We'll just round the lizards up and **Avada** them all! OH HONESTLY!"_

_Charlie laughed, his hands moving to hold her sides. "Take a deep breath," he told her cheekily. He shook his head, "Dragon keepers have been putting up with that stigma for a long time, really, we're fine with it. Apparently, we're dumb as rocks, only good with our hands, brutish, made of solid muscle, and can't use a coherent and intelligent word to save our lives." He shrugged, his thumbs flicking her shirt up to rub against her skin. "We really don't care. We know what we are. We know who we are and what we do is important. Most of us are a little thick, I mean we play with firebreathing dragons all day, I don't think that's in the Smart and Lifelong Careers for Brilliant Wizards Handbook." He chuckled, "Every once in awhile though, we get a few smart ones. There was this witch who came to work here. Most brilliant witch of her age," he said, leaning forward and thinning his eyes as if he had a serious secret to share with her. "I hear she's dating one of the other keepers. Real handsome bloke, very charming."_

"_No, I heard she dumped him. Now she's got a real dud. Not handsome at all, very boring, always talking, never touching," she replied, crossing her arms and turning her eyes off primly._

"_Sounds horrible," Charlie said, frowning as he slipped his hands further up her shirt._

"_Ah! Charlie, your hands are freezing," she told him, trying to stop their ascent._

"_Really? Warm them for me, will you?" he said, grinning. She squirmed against him and he ran his hands around her back, rubbing at her skin until she closed her eyes and relaxed into him. She made soft noises of contentment as he kneaded her back, knuckles pressing into her shoulders and fingers skimming her spine soft and slow. She bit her lip, arching her back a little and letting her head fall back against his knees. Smiling, he removed his hands abruptly and then winked at her as she stared up at him with furrowed brows and a frown. He separated his legs and chuckled as she fell back onto the bed, before moving so he was laying on top of her. His body molded to hers, each curve and plain finding one of hers to fit against perfectly. She sighed comfortably and he felt her legs tangle with his behind them against the pillows. Reaching out, he brushed her hair off her cheek and then found her hands to clasp together, lifting them high above her head, resting on the cool blanket beneath them._

_They laid there for awhile, content just to hold each other. Charlie rested his head on her chest, listening to the soft beat of her heart. Her fingers played with his, gently brushing against his skin, nails grazing against his palm. Her toes rubbed at his calf, foot running up and down his leg, soothingly. It was awhile later, when she broke the silence. "I never thought I'd be this happy again."_

"_What d'you mean?" he wondered, nuzzling his head against her chest, ear still pressed against her heart._

_She sighed, soft and quiet. "I didn't know what would happen after the war and my parents... I thought I'd get a job and I'd enjoy it to some extent. I would think of them every day, wondering what they would think if I got a promotion or met someone. That I'd stay around Harry and Ron, probably work at the Ministry and see them everyday. But then I came here and I found a job that wouldn't just keep me going but give me a valid reason to get up in the morning," she told him, her legs stopping to wrap tighter around his. He remembered seeing her the first day, how her eyes lit up with fascination at the dragons around her. Reminded him quite a lot of himself actually, when he first came to the reserve. "The first year was nice, informative. I got to learn all about these incredible creatures that had so much history behind them. And I met new people, wizards and witches who were nothing like anybody I'd ever known before. It was an incredible experience," she said, her voice sweet with reminiscence._

_She paused for a moment, her hands squeezing his. "And then you came along and being friends with you was so refreshing. I'd only ever really had Harry and Ron before and they're nothing like you. Ron always berated by studying and my need for knowledge while Harry always had his own things to worry about. They had their own sort of friendship where I always sort of felt like an outsider coming in. We were best friends, or at least they were my best friends, but they were always closer to each other than me. And then I had you and it was just me and you. Never really anybody else and I liked that. I liked having you all to myself. To talk to or to just sit around with." She shifted, letting go of one of his hands to reach down and run it through his hair. "And then that night when I came to make sure your leg was okay because I just knew you were going to be stubborn and pretend that it was nothing, it was so unexpected but incredible." _

_Charlie grinned against her stomach, remembering the night fondly. "I never really expected you to like me back, I thought you only saw friendship and maybe even a little sisterly connection because of Ron." Charlie snorted, sisterly was certainly not how he had ever thought of her. "But the way you kissed me... the way you still kiss me..." She swallowed and Charlie could feel her shiver against him. "I don't ever want to not feel that, Charlie." He turned his head looking up at her, seeing her mouth quiver and her eyes move from his to the top of the tent quickly. "When I thought about my life after everything I never really factored in happiness, but then you were there and I couldn't help but be happy. And... And I always want to be happy now." She glanced down at him, "D'you understand?"_

_A slow smile appeared on his face and he nodded, moving up her until he was hovering over her face. He cupped her cheek, wiping away the tear that escaped her warm eyes. "I hope you're not expecting something cheesy like, 'You complete me,' but..." He leaned down, kissing her gently. "I'll make you happy for as long as you'll have me."_

"_And if I want to keep you forever?" she whispered, her eyes closed as she tipped her chin up to kiss him again._

_He pressed his mouth to hers, slow and thorough as his tongue slipped past her soft lips to taste her. "Then you'll have me," he murmured, his hand slipping into her hair, drawing her closer._

"_I think I just might," she told him, sighing as his mouth trailed down her face to her neck._

"_I think I might like that," he replied, suckling at her collar. She sighed, melting beneath him as her hands slipped into his hair, tugging lightly._

"_Are the words necessary?" she wondered, biting her lip._

"_I'd like to hear them," he told her, nipping at her neck. "But you don't have to say it if you don't want to." He lifted his head, kissing her chin and looking down into her eyes. "Have you ever said it to anyone before?" he queried, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip._

_She shook her head, "Only to my parents, and I signed letters with it, but never like this," she told him, looking up through her lashes._

"_Don't say it unless you're sure," he told her, shaking his head slightly, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach._

_She looked up at him, rather startled. "Oh I'm sure," she told him, her mouth curving. Her smile faltered, brows furrowing, "Are you sure?" He nodded, kissing the tip of her nose. "Have you ever said it to anyone?" He shook his head. "Then how do you know?" she wondered, her brow furrowing._

"_How do you?" he asked her, lifting a brow. "Don't suppose there's a book that could adequately explain it."_

_Hermione rolled her eyes, "Oh honestly, there are some things you just can't learn from a book."_

"_Yeah?" he asked, grinning. "Like what?"_

_She let her hand trail down his face, fingers tracing the contours. "Like how comforting it is to wake up and feel you next to me. Or how I get a little shiver when you hug me and I can smell this scent that is so completely... Charlie... all around you. Or how your eyes darken when you're angry or passionate about something. And how your skin feels both rough and soft." She sighed, her eyes lightening as she ran her gaze over his face slowly, running her knuckles over his cheek. "And no book, no matter who wrote it, could possibly get into words just how much I love you, Charlie," she told him, her voice sending shivers down his back as her breath played across his mouth. Her hand came to rest against his jaw, forefinger reaching out to trace the curve of his lips._

_Charlie felt his heart flip flop, his stomach suddenly lighten and his breath all escape him at once. "See, now what can I say that will compare to that?" he asked, his voice meaning to be humorous but coming out rather worried._

_Hermione chuckled, "Just tell me you love me," she told him, shaking her head. "I precisely remember not saying anything about your way with words in my little speech before."_

_Charlie grinned, kissing the tip of her finger before he leaned down to press his lips against the corner of her eye, "I," he murmured against her skin, breath playing over her cheek to make her shiver. He moved down her, pressed his lips against the rosy blush of her cheek. "Love," he breathed. He trailed farther, kissing her skin with a simple brush of his lips, his mouth a bare whisper against her. "You," he finished, before descending on her mouth, lips seeking out purchase in the dip and curve of hers. His tongue ran across the underside of her top lip before slipping in to tangle with hers. She whimpered against him, arching her back up until she was pressed against his chest tightly. She was exquisite, he decided. Soft and warm, tasting faintly of her sugarless candies, smelling lightly of coconut shampoo. He'd never loved before and he'd never love again. She was it, he knew. _

Back in the waiting room, Bill stared at the floor as he listened to the healers echoing footsteps. They had finished their briefing of the family and all he could hear now was the sobbing of his mother. Coma. He'd never expected that. In fact, he'd been running on the simple fact that Hermione Granger was just too damn strong and stubborn to die. The fact remained that she was alive, just not waking up. Could wake up today, could wake up never, they told everyone in their brisk tones. Bill didn't fail to notice that Charlie was not there to tell them, that he had avoided it all by sending in the professionals rather than telling them all himself. He didn't know if that was good or bad. Was Charlie too upset to talk to them? Had he lost hope already? Lifting his head, Bill scanned the room. Ron was leaning over his legs, heels of his hands pressed up into his eyes. Parvati had her arms wrapped around him and her face hidden against his back as she tried to tell him it would all be okay. Harry was holding Luna, his face buried in her shoulder, blonde hair covering his face. Molly sat hiccuping as she leaned into Arthur, her face red and littered with tears as she shook her head. While the twins sat with their respective better halves, pale faced and humorless. Bill's arm tightened around Fleur who sat sniffling beside him, head on his shoulder.

A throat clearing caught their attention and the room looked to the entrance where the familiar nurse stood, arms crossed behind her back. "From what I understand, you're all very close to Miss. Granger, but I've been asked by Charlie that you give him some time alone with her. Visiting hours are ending soon, it should be another hour or so. They begin early tomorrow, 9 am. I believe he's staying here, though he hasn't asked for a bed to be made up. He doesn't really seem like the type to leave." She shook her head, frowning. "Took a half hour to catch his attention after she was taken away from him. He just knelt in the waiting room, crying. Ignored everybody asking him questions, seemed quite one-minded really. Had to wait until he was in a bit of a catatonic state before I could get his attention. He doesn't seem like the subdued type, but..." She seemed to be babbling and Bill simply stared at her, realizing that her job was to deal with all kinds of people with various injuries and odd accidents. She was tired and haggard looking, but the case involving Charlie and Hermione seemed to be rather hard for her.

"Thank you," Bill finally said, nodding his head. "Is he... Is he all right?" he managed to ask.

She stared at him a moment, shaking her said slightly. "He says he's fine. He didn't open the door right away though. I considered opening it for him, but I thought the first step would be for him to let go of the bag holding all of her stuff in it. He's been clutching it ever since I gave it to him." She grimaced. "I don't get many cases like this. Usually I'm stuck with the boys who magicked themselves elephant trunks or people who drank their potions rather than their pumpkin juice while working. It's not often that I get such serious cases really. Magic always has such a humorous twist to it, though it does get tiresome. Seems someone's always doing something ridiculously stupid." She bit her lip, "Haven't seen such sadness since the war, really." She suddenly straightened, appearing to have found her professionalism once more. "In any case, I'm afraid that you won't be able to see her tonight. Perhaps tomorrow though. She's in room 105, around the corner and down to the very end. You'll see it's marked Granger-Weasley and nobody but those Charlie's given direct permission to can get in the room. Seeing as Miss. Granger is somewhat of an icon, no press will be informed of her being here and any that find out will not be allowed near the room." She nodded to them in farewell and then left the room.

The room fell silent once more before Molly finally sighed, "Right. Well. We best be going home then. None of you have eaten, get your things, I'll make us some dinner," she announced, rising from her seat and running a hand over her face and hair.

Looking up, her youngest son wiped his face with his arm and stared at her. "Mum," Ron started, sounding lost.

"Come along, sweetheart," she said, running her hand over his hair. "We'll get you fed and then you can kip in your old bedroom. The family stays together tonight and we'll all return in the morning." She looked around, her expression stern but tired. "Any objections?" Nobody replied, but they did stand up to follow her out.

An hour later, Bill was sitting down at the table, pushing around a plate of spaghetti as the rest of the family silently stared down at their plates. Neville had joined them, finally able to get away from work to join his wife and the rest of the family. He listened quietly as Ginny filled him in on all of what happened and how Hermione was doing. Then the Burrow fell into an uncomfortable silence. Shoulders were slumped, faces were tired, the family was subdued entirely. Arthur had tried to talk about work, but gave up after awhile, not putting much effort or interest in retelling the events of his week. Two days from then it would have been a Weasley family dinner and everybody would have been laughing and all talking at the same time. Food would be passed around, smiles would be shared, and Bill would have sat back and listened to Charlie and Hermione inform everyone that they were together, had been for eleven months. They'd then go on to show off the engagement ring, tell them all about how Charlie proposed and then shock them all with the fact that Hermione was pregnant with Molly's first grandchild. After the initial shock wore off, cheers would ring out, champagne would be poured, Molly would cry, and Charlie would incur slaps on the backs and sly, knowing grins. It would have been a great night, but instead Bill was sitting at a table with people who had lost their usual exuberance while his brother sat next to his sleeping beauty, living with the possibility that she may never wake. Two places at the table were empty, very obviously so, and Bill couldn't help but notice that everyone looked over to Charlie and Hermione's usual seats every few minutes with morose expressions and empty eyes.

"So," Harry finally said, breaking the heavy silence. "Who all knew about Hermione and Charlie?"

Nobody replied right away, but Bill was rather curious himself, so he said, "I knew back when Charlie and Hermione first became friends. It was a couple years ago and she stopped by his tent to help him with some kind of injury. He didn't explain what, just said that she bullied him into letting her help him and she fixed him up so well he fell asleep while she was still there." He half-smiled, shrugging one shoulder, "He refused to admit he liked her anymore than a friend. Took him a year to figure it out but when he did he was sure that she only liked him as a best mate or brotherly figure. He didn't tell me how it happened, but he said he finally got the courage to tell her how he felt and she felt the same way, it was all the two of them after that." He snorted, chewing his lip a moment. "I remember a letter he wrote after he finally told her he loved her. Said he knew then that it was real, that it was forever. That was a lot coming from Charlie. He's never... He's never been in love before. He had a few girlfriends in the past, had a lot of fun with them, but he never loved any of them." He shook his head, smiling. "Told me he was too selfish, didn't want to let the whole family know because he wanted to have her all to himself. He knew mum would talk marriage, the twins would poke fun, and Ron and Harry wouldn't be completely sure if they were right for each other. So they kept it to themselves, said they'd tell the rest of us when the time was right." He swallowed tightly, pushing his spaghetti around a little more. "How about the rest of you? That hug when you girls showed up said a lot more than what you wanted us to believe."

Luna smiled dreamily, her eyes turned up, "Well it was in the stars from the beginning," she told them, nodding. "But, I did catch them snogging out by the pond a few months ago," she said, chuckling. "It was after dinner and most of the family was still in the house. They had snuck off a little while before and I didn't really think anything of it. 'Till I happened to glance over from where I saw sitting near the apple tree, saw them laying down by the pond, very much ignoring the outside world."

"I remember that night," Harry said, his brows furrowing. "I don't remember seeing them though," he said, shaking his head.

Luna smiled up at him before patting his cheek, "You were busy, dear."

Bill snorted as Harry flushed brightly, mumbling under his breath before filling his mouth with spaghetti.

"I caught them in the kitchen," Parvati said, grinning. "I was coming in to freshen up my drink when I stopped short. They were pressed up against the icebox and I didn't want to interrupt, so I just slipped back out. That was months ago though, caught them a few others times, too," she said, shrugging as Ron gaped at her. "Charlie was always stealing her away to kiss in the hallways or out in the garden."

Ginny smirked, nodding. "Yeah, well that's not all he was doing," she said, lifting her brows.

"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

"Oh, Ron, come on. They're having a baby, it's obvious they weren't just snogging in corners." She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "In fact, every day of the hols last Christmas, Hermione snuck out of my old room and into Charlie's as soon as she thought I was sleeping. Then she'd sneak back in the morning before anybody woke up. He'd walk her right up to the door some mornings, I could hear them whispering to each other before the door would creak open and she'd rush to her bed to get a couple more hours sleep." Her smile fell as she grimaced, "Accidentally walked in on them once. Mum told me to go find Charlie from his room because she'd made his favorite cookies and if he didn't hurry up Ron was going to eat them all. He was obviously preoccupied and I don't think he would've given a lick about cookies had I said something," she said with a laugh. "They didn't notice me of course and I was out of there as fast as I could." She shook her head, frowning. "Not a sight I'd prefer to remember."

"Mum, is this proper dinner talk?" Ron grumbled, scowling at his sister.

Molly chuckled, though the sound was rather strained and she was quite pale. She didn't reply right away, instead lifting her hands and bracing them beneath her chin, a sad, reminiscent look on her face. "I remember the day I realized he was in love vividly. He walked into the kitchen, kissed me on the cheek, told me he missed me and asked if I wanted help making dinner." She sighed, smiling lightly. "There was something in his eyes then and he couldn't stop smiling. I asked him how work was and he told me it was incredible. I asked how working with Hermione was and he told me she was the best partner he'd ever had. I even asked him how he was doing dealing with the protesters outside of the reserve and he happily told me they weren't so bad. Didn't falter once, just kept grinning and preparing dinner." She swallowed, shaking her head a bit. "They slipped up though, back at that dinner when they finally admitted they were seeing someone at the reserve. I asked them how long they were together and they both replied 'nearly nine months'. I thought it was odd at first, that maybe one of them was answering for the other, but then they looked at each other and that same spark was in Charlie's eyes. And I knew, right then, I knew. It was Hermione he was in love with. Hermione who made him grin like that." There was a collective sigh from the women that went around the table and Bill chuckled at Ron's rolling eyes and exasperated sigh.

"I saw them dancing," Alicia said, smiling as she thought back. "Out in the yard on Christmas last year. It was late and I went down to the kitchen to get a glass of butterbeer when I glanced out the window to see them. They had their coats on over their pajamas and it was still snowing. Charlie was twirling her around and I could tell the way her head was thrown back that she was laughing. I was confused at first because I'd never really seen them together that much. I knew they were partners at the reserve but they didn't spend much time with each other when they visited the Burrow, or so I thought." She shook her head, a wistful smile on her face. "I remembered thinking that was exactly how George looked at me when we first started dating." She turned, looking up at her grinning fiancé. "Still does sometimes, actually."

"How is it all the women stumbled upon them but the rest of us didn't see a thing?" Ron asked, lifting his brow as he twirled his fork in his spaghetti and filled his mouth to the brim. "Where were we when they were snoggin' and such?"

Bill shrugged, "I dunno where the rest of you were. I stumbled on them a number of times. Out by dad's shed, under the apple tree out back, in Charlie's room, in the hallway, out on the porch..." He grinned. "No wonder he's having a kid before the rest of us, he never stops," he said, chuckling. "Oh yeah, found 'em by the fire that one time, too. Christmas eve night, everybody was sleeping. Heard a noise, stumbled downstairs, got an eyeful, went back to my room," he told them, his brows lifted high. "I'm surprised the rest of you didn't wake up."

Ron choked, his face bright, "I thought that was you an' Fleur," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

With furrowed brows, George said, "I thought it was Fred and Angelina. It was so loud I figured it had to be close."

"I didn't hear a thing," Harry said, shaking his head.

"You've been a heavy sleeper for some time," Luna informed him. "It was nargle mating season, I figured it was them. The house was covered in mistletoe," she reminded, shaking her head. She ignored the pause in conversation and the lifting of shoulders at her odd comment about nargles mating.

"I saw them out on the porch shortly before one of the Weasley dinners a couple weeks ago," Angelina told them, sipping from her glass of water. "I'd known for awhile, but they looked so cozy out there. Everybody else was in the living room, talking about the wedding plans for Alicia and George. Fred kept muttering about the last piece of toffee that he really wanted before Ron saw it, so I finally went back into the kitchen to get it. Glanced out the window and there they were, watching the sun set. Charlie was laid out on the swing with Hermione curled up in front of him. Couldn't hear what they were saying but she was nodding and he was smiling a lot." She smiled, grinning. "Knew then they were going to make it. Despite the fact that they hadn't told anyone. They looked right together. I just knew they were going to get married." She turned to Fred, smirking. "I was going to tell you, but I figured it'd be more interesting to see your reaction when they told you and I admitted I knew all along."

"Devilish woman," he said, grinning. "I like the way you think, have I told you?"

"Only once or twice," she said, leaning into him, tipping her chin and he met her mouth in a kiss.

"Oi! Not at the table!" Ron interrupted, frowning. "Does anybody remember their table manners?"

Parvati snorted, "Like you're one to talk," she reminded, rolling her eyes.

"Dad? Did you know?" Bill asked, turning to his father.

Arthur turned to him, nodding. "Yeah, I went in to wake Charlie up early one morning, see if he wanted to help me make breakfast. Found them wrapped around each other, fast asleep. I let them be, figured they'd tell us when they were ready," he said, shrugging lightly as he twirled his fork around absently in his food.

"You never told me that," Molly commented, her brow furrowing.

Arthur smiled at her. "They wanted their privacy, it wasn't my place to go telling who they were with." He chortled, "Besides, I knew the moment you found out, you'd pull out your wedding planner. Wanted to give them the chance to figure out what it was they wanted."

Molly blushed lightly. "Well, I'm just glad they found each other."

"You always wanted Hermione to be a Weasley," Bill reminded, nodding.

"She was always part of the family, I just hoped it would be legal," his mother said, nodding.

"Charlie won't let her go," he said, shaking his head, his mood becoming solemn once more.

"It may not be his choice, dear," Molly said softly. The table fell silent once more and finally Molly rose. "Well, I think I'll head to bed. Been a long day and I'm quite tuckered out," she said, her voice rather wobbly. She moved around the table, kissing each member of the family fondly, ruffling their hair or patting their shoulder. She paused near the open space where Hermione usually sat and let out a soft sigh. "We'll all get up bright and early," she said, trying to sound cheerful. "Charlie will need family around him through this. Hermione will be back to new in no time." She left it at that, leaving the room with her eyes moist and her smile faltering as her mouth quivered.

Bill stared down at his plate, sighing. The happy mood that had temporarily claimed the Weasley family had once again evaporated. Dinner was soon ignored, couples left for bed so they could be up early to return to St. Mungo's, and Bill couldn't help but stare at his father who sat silently at the end of the table, his eyes pressed against his arched hands, elbows sitting firmly on the table. He looked lonely, tired, much older than Bill remembered him being. His shoulders were slumped, his face bowed, mouth set in a frown. Bill couldn't remember seeing him so weathered since Percy's death, and it made him shudder. He felt Fleur tugging his arm, beckoning him away from the scene. He let his eyes fall from his father and followed his wife away. Perhaps tomorrow would be better. Maybe it would bring relief from the overwhelming darkness. He hoped morning brought wakefulness to Hermione. For the sake of everyone.

Five days passed with no change in Hermione's condition. Every day Bill returned to St. Mungo's to find his mother sitting in a chair or trying to encourage Charlie to sleep or rest or get away from the hospital for a little while. She hadn't coaxed him from the room yet. As far as he got away from Hermione was the few feet to the window or a quick trip to the loo, which had a door leading to it inside of Hermione's room. He listened to his mum day after day as she said that Hermione's colour was returning, he watched as his brother fell farther into himself and said nothing when the room filled with people between the end of work and the beginning of dinner or just after breakfast until the start of the work day. He watched his brother's eyes darken, his chin shadow with nearly a weeks worth of growth, his fear become more prominent and his hope dwindle. Charlie wasn't speaking, was hardly eating, barely paid attention to anybody around him. He spent his time watching Hermione, as if willing her with his eyes to wake up.

Bill stood in the background, listening to the inane chatter of his brothers and their wives or girlfriends talking about everyday things, trying to fill the room with the comfortable presence of family. They tried to draw Charlie into conversation, reached out to him verbally and physically, but he ignored them entirely. He barely touched the food Molly placed in front of him, urging him to have something, anything. He changed his clothes when Jonas would drop in with a fresh batch and harp on him for stinking Hermione out of her comfort zone. But he was clearly falling apart and doing nothing to stop it. Bill was waiting for him to explode, waiting for him to start shouting and yelling and throwing things. He knew it was coming, could see a fire burning in his brother's eyes. That same flame that built when Charlie was at his end, when he couldn't take it any longer and snapped. It was rare, hardly ever happened for him. Bill only remembered seeing it once, back when Percy had had been killed and Charlie found out who it was.

It was the beginning of the second war and Charlie had left the reserve to help as much as he could. When he got his hands on the guy who'd killed his brother, he had no mercy. They dragged him off to an abandoned building, throwing him to the dirty floor. Fred and George stood guard, letting nobody into the building. Bill watched silently as Charlie did what everyone in the Weasley family wanted to do, what all of them felt was justice. He beat the shite out of Percy's killer until he could barely breathe, hardly move, was begging for death. It didn't matter that Percy had turned his back on the family, it didn't matter that he and Charlie were never the closest of brothers. Percy was a Weasley and nobody harmed a Weasley and walked away from it. Charlie didn't want to do the man any favors by stopping his pain, figuring he'd just leave him there to wither away. It was as they were about to leave him in the darkened room, mangled and bloody, that Percy's killer turned his wand on them once more, angled at Bill. And without a second thought, Charlie muttered the Killing Curse with a cruel, fierce glint in his eye. A green light streamed from Charlie's wand straight at the lump of a murderer on the floor. And silently, as if nothing of great consequence had happened, the two brothers left the building, meeting Fred and George on their way out and continuing on in the war around them. They never spoke of it again, understanding that it was one of those secrets that brothers take to the grave.

Obviously Charlie wasn't going to kill anybody now, he wasn't going to beat anybody unto an inch of their life, but his anger was brimming at the edge and Bill knew that it was going to simmer over soon. Ron and Harry came every day, one or both of them with a new bouquet of flowers or a tidbit that Hermione might be interested in. They'd talk to her about anything and everything, babbling on about work or a book that they happened upon or just anything that came to mind. Ron never went out of his way to talk to Charlie though, seeming rather chuffed about not knowing anything concerning his brother dating his best friend. There was a tension there, a strained silence hung heavy between them, but neither seemed interested in clearing the air. The twins brought their humor to the room, telling Hermione about a newest invention that they knew she wouldn't appreciate. They often joked that she had better wake up before they did something to destroy the Wizarding world. They didn't seem to know what to say to Charlie, fumbling over the seriousness of it all and how their usually dangerous and outgoing brother seemed to have fallen apart. Arthur didn't say much, often just coming in to rest a hand on Charlie's shoulder, pat Hermione's hand, and try to talk Molly into calming down on her overbearing motherly attitude.

It was the seventh night when Charlie finally snapped. Bill was sitting in a chair against a wall, having just finished reading the book Charlie had Jonas bring in for Hermione when she woke up and picking up The Quibbler Harry had brought along. He was thumbing through it, rather intrigued by the information it held, while half-listening to his mum as she pushed Charlie to eat more and maybe go back to the Burrow for a kip. He stiffened, knowing that his Charlie's irritation usually revolved around the subject of leaving St. Mungo's. While he hadn't said anything, he had flinched when it was brought up and often shifted in his seat, this time was no different.

"You're hardly eating Charlie, you're practically skin and bones," Molly chastised, shaking her head and frowning. She pushed the tray piled high with hospital food closer to her son, who only pushed it away again. Bill snorted quietly, thinking that Charlie couldn't be skin and bones if he missed a months worth of meals. He was too fit for that, didn't have an inch of fat on him. If he looked thinner it was probably became he was slumping and hunched over in his chair. At least now he wasn't clutching Hermione's things anymore. He frowned, remembering when Charlie opened the bag.

_It was late, visiting hours were nearly over. Fleur had returned to Egypt and Bill had a portkey over in an hour. His mum was up in the tea room, filling up a tray of food to tide Charlie over for the night, though Bill knew he probably wouldn't touch most of it. He was sitting in his usual chair near the window, holding a copy of The Quibbler, always enjoying the odd stories Luna and her father printed in it. Charlie was sitting next to Hermione, no surprise there, he was hardly ever out of the chair anymore. He usually held her hand, stroking her stomach and simply watching her, waiting. When the need for sleep became too much, he'd nod off, but Bill knew he only kipped for an hour or two before startling awake. Judging by the expression Charlie usually bore when he woke, he wasn't dreaming pleasant things._

_Hearing a tearing noise, Bill's brows furrowed and he looked up from the magazine. He found Charlie holding the bag of Hermione's belongings still, though now there was a rip in the corner. His hand was shaking as he slipped it inside, digging around for something. Bill narrowed his eyes, trying to see what it was Charlie finally pulled out after a minute or so of digging. The glint of silver caught his eye and Bill watched as the oval locket hung from his brother's hand, it was stained by old blood and Charlie pulled it up by its delicate chain to wrap in his fist. He rose from his seat silently, walking to the loo and leaving the door open as he turned the taps on. Bill quietly watched as Charlie rubbed away the blood from the locket gently, his own hands staining and the sink water becoming a pale pink as it drained away. Charlie didn't return right away, staring down into the sink, his shoulders slumping further, arms braced on the edge of the sink counter. Bill wanted to say something, perhaps a few encouraging words to draw his brother's spirits up. But his mind failed him, finding nothing that could make Charlie straighten up and find his strength again._

_After a few minutes, he walked back to the bed and Bill didn't fail to notice that Charlie's eyes were red rimmed and puffy again. Carefully, Charlie clasped the necklace around Hermione's neck, straightening it out against her chest, his thumbs flicking out to brush against her skin. He resumed his seat after a moment, his jaw flexing as he moved closer to take her hand, kissing the top of it and resting his chin on the bed next to her. The torn bag was pushed away into her bedside table, his brother obviously not wanting to see the bloody remains of her clothes. Bill tore his eyes away from the scene, feeling like he was intruding. He supposed they all were. While they entire Weasley clan was worried, Charlie had his own family hanging by a thread and he obviously didn't feel inclined to pay any attention to anybody who wasn't Hermione. Bill sighed to himself, he was certain that if it were him and Fleur in place of them, he'd be just the same._

"Will you at least eat the fish, please?" their mother asked on a sigh. "You have to keep yourself going somehow, Charlie, I don't even know what you're running on right now. When was the last time you ate? Hm? Have you even slept today? Or yesterday?" She waited a moment but he didn't reply, choosing to stare at Hermione than even acknowledge her existence. "I don't even know why I ask anymore," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Neither do I," Charlie replied, his voice hoarse from hardly any use.

George and Fred stopped talking, their hands still hanging mid-air as they turned with surprised expressions, eyes flickering to their mother to see what would happen next. Ron and Harry perked up in their seats on a counter against the wall. Ron's arms fell from being crossed as he gaped at Charlie and then his mother, expecting an explosion of chastising. Bill sat expectantly, making no noise, no move to interfere. It was a long time coming and maybe Charlie needed to let it out, he'd been bottling it up for far too long.

Molly's mouth pinched as she apparently tried to pull back from shouting at her son for his lack of manners and his rude comment. "Now, Charlie, I understand--"

"No, you don't," he interrupted, looking up at her from his slumped position in his seat, hand pressed against his temple. "You've got your husband, you've got your kids, you can't understand this."

Something flickered in his mother's eyes and Bill took notice, sitting forward, his magazine ignored completely. "I'll remind you that not everybody in my family is with me anymore, Charlie, and hope that you remember that in future when you accuse me of having no idea what pain feels like." Her voice was strong, but her expression betrayed how stung she felt.

"You mean Percy mum?" he asked scathingly. "Because I'm pretty sure that I took care of that one, didn't I? The Weasley family got their revenge for that, didn't they, mum?" he spat, staring up at her darkly. "Magic just swept that problem under the carpet, didn't it?"

She stepped back, her eyes falling. "I don't know what you--"

"You know what to do, Charlie," her second eldest son said, rising from his chair, knocking it over. "You don't let that man get away with what he did to your brother, Charlie. We Weasley's stick together!" He spat, rounding on her, arms held out. "And what did you want me to do, mum? What did you expect? Did you want his family to suffer too, huh? Did it feel better without that burden? That your son's killer was taken to par because of what he did? Did it feel good knowing that I killed him? Huh?" he yelled, staring at her. "Just a little flick of the wand, right mum? Just a little magic and it was done. He did it to Percy, why shouldn't he feel it in return? Why shouldn't he die for what he did? What right did he have to keep breathing when Percy didn't have the luxury?" he snapped.

Bill sat ram-rod straight, his hands shaking so much the magazine was making a rattling noise. The twins were staring, pale faced and quiet. Ron looked confused, his eyes moving back and forth from Charlie to his mother. Bill waited, wanting to know if his mother had really pushed Charlie to finish off the man who killed Percy. If that day so many years ago had been spurned by the matriarch of the Weasley family. If she had encouraged her second oldest son to kill, something she avoided as much as possible. Had she put that on Charlie's conscience, unable to do the deed herself?

"I never told you to kill him, Charlie, do not put that on me," she told him, shaking her head, her mouth quivering and her eyes tear filled.

"You wanted me to," he shouted at her, his face darkening. "You just kept talking about it. Over and over. It's just a little magic, Charlie. Don't you let him get away with it. He took my baby!" he said through grit teeth. "And what did I do, mum? Huh? What did I do for you? For Percy?" he asked, throwing his arms around. "And you were relieved! You were so fucking relieved to know that he was gone. That he couldn't do it again. That Percy didn't die for nothing. One more killer gotten rid of, right?" He laughed hollowly, loud and shrill. "One curse. Two words. And he was gone. A limp pile of nothing. No breath, no heartbeat, not even a twitch of his limbs. Just dead!"

"Stop it," she asked, closing her eyes and backing up.

"No," he yelled, shaking his head. "I killed a man. For you. I _killed_ a man! And it didn't hurt. Didn't even faze me. He killed my little brother," he screamed, his hands fisting. "And all it took were those two words. I was gonna leave him there. To struggle and crawl and pray for help. I was gonna leave him there to _suffer_! But he turned on Bill. Had his wand poised, the words ready and it took me a fraction of a second to kill him. I was ready for it. Wand out, words on the tip of my tongue. I _wanted_ him to try. I_ wanted_ him to give me a reason, a valid reason to justify my killing him. Two fucking words and he was gone. No longer a problem, nobody to think of again. Didn't have to worry about him being out there any longer, he was just gone."

"Charlie," Molly said, her voice wobbly.

"Two words," he repeated, staring at her. "Two goddamn words to kill a man but there isn't one to save her. Not one to wake her up. And you stand there, telling me over and over to eat and sleep and get out of the room for a minute." He shook his head, "What the fuck does food matter, huh?" he asked, his hand ripping the tray off of the cart holding it. He whipped it at the wall, the crash and shattering of glass and cutlery echoing through the room, making everyone flinch but him and Hermione. Tea and Jello, some kind of meat covered in lumpy gravy and soupy potatoes, splattered over the wall and floor. Shards of glass, a broken tray, clattering on the linoleum, remnants of a forced, tasteless meal that would never quell the desperation in the pit of his stomach. "D'you honestly think I care about sleeping or eating or anything right now?" he asked her, his voice fierce, angry and chilling.

She shook her head, holding her hands out, as if trying to embrace him. "You need to eat, you need to sleep," she told him, her voice low, becoming controlled, her back straightening.

He pushed her hands away, stepping away from her, pulling away from her comfort. "I don't need any of it. I need her," he told her, his teeth clenched, chin shaking. "I don't need you telling me that my life goes on. I don't need you trying to encourage me to get out of the room and remember that life is happening all around me. I need you to stop."

"Charlie--"

"JUST FUCKING STOP!" he screamed at her, tearing the door open so hard it dented the wall behind it loudly. "You can't stand to see me like this, I get it," he told her, lifting his shoulders. "You can leave. I don't need you here. I don't need you hanging around. I don't need the food, the sleeping, the coddling. I don't want to leave, I don't want you to make it stop hurting." He stared at her, eyes glimmering with tears he wouldn't let fall.

She pulled her arms back, nodding. Her mouth tightened for a moment, before she said what was on her mind. "You want a cure, little boy, and you're mad because I don't have it. Because I come in here everyday with my arms open and sustenance for a moving, able, _awake_ person. You're upset with me because I can't give you the incantation that will wake her up," Molly told him, tears slipping down her rosy cheeks, hair frazzled. "And you're upset with yourself because you're not the one in that bed, because you're not the one who got hurt and she is. You're mad because you didn't convince her not to go in there, didn't catch her when she was hit," she told him, shaking her head, no anger in her voice. "And you know I know these things and you hate that I keep trying to comfort you and tell you that it's not your fault. Because you don't want forgiveness, Charlie, you want people to be angry with you, you want me to yell at you for not stopping her, for not keeping them both safe."

She sniffled, waving her hand at him to cut off his words before he could speak. "And I am sorry that you still hurt over what happened with Percy. I'm sorry that magic could be used for such darkness but not in a moment that you desperately want it to. I'm sorry that the world is cruel enough to take her away just when you found her, Charlie-bear," she said, affectionately sad. "And you can kick me out, you can throw the food I put in front of you every damn day. You can push me as far as you want, yell at me every time I kiss your head or squeeze your shoulder." She lifted her hand, pointing her finger at him, "But don't you dare think that you're gonna keep me from being here for you, Charles Weasley. I will come back here every day. I will force that food down your throat if need be. I will make you walk around and speak to people outside of this room and I will remind you that the world is still moving, despite the fact that you are falling apart," she told him, eyes strong, voice shaking with determination.

She swallowed, lifting her chin, wiping the tears from her cheeks and staring at him levelly. "And you can hate me for it. You can shout and curse and scream for me to leave all you want. But I'm not going to let you waste away, Charlie. I won't do it. I'm your mother, I'll always be your mother, and it's my job to keep you up when you're drowning. It's my job to pick up the pieces and put them back together." Her eyes flickered to Hermione before settling on Charlie again, his expression fierce and tight, his shoulders strained. "She would be disappointed with me if I did it any other way." She sighed, licking her lips and shaking her head. "She wouldn't want this for you, Charlie. You know she wouldn't." She blinked rapidly, holding back tears. "You love her, sweetie, I know you do. You love her and you had a whole life planned out. You had a whole world of possibilities for just the two of you. With the family and the love and the house and _everything_. And it hurts, to think that you might not have it, that she may never wake up." She paused when Charlie's eyes settled on her, shivering at the darkness reflected there, but she carried on, not one to be put off by anything set in her way. "But you can't spend your life in this room, Charlie. You can't raise that little girl in here and you can't waste away in that chair, staring at her, waiting for her to open her eyes." She reached out, hand resting against Charlie's heaving chest. "You can't," she stressed.

Charlie stared down at her, teeth grit, mouth scowling. "Get out," he said, before turning his back on her, righting his chair and sitting back down.

Bill sighed, shoulders slumping. He watched his mother nod, eyes still swimming in tears, understanding. "Fred, George, Harry, Ron, get your things together. It's time for dinner. We'll return in the morning," she said, before looking to the corner where Bill sat. "Don't stay too long, Bill. Fleur isn't the most patient woman." She reached out, as if to place her hand on Charlie's shoulder, but she paused mid-air contemplatively. Bill waited, wondering if she'd still reach out or let Charlie have his space. Finally, her hand fell on Charlie's head, fingers slipping through his hair and ruffling it slightly like Bill remembered her doing to them when they were little boys. "I'll have Nora bring you something to eat later," she told him, her voice rather high and shaky. "Try to rest, Charlie-bear." Charlie leaned forward, moving away from her, bracing himself on his knees. Nodding, Molly stole one more glance at Bill and left the room, taking the lead in front of the four boys waiting for her.

Bill sat quietly, waiting. He leaned back in his seat, back tense, feeling rather shocked at all that was said. Charlie continued to stare at Hermione, his hand reaching out to brush her hair off her face, shaking as it retracted to lay on the bed. He held her hand, just like always, sometimes reaching out to stroke her still flat stomach. It wasn't long before Charlie finally addressed him, lifting his chin from the bed to look over at his silent brother as he sat in the corner, pretending to pay attention to latest edition of The Quibbler in his hands, reading by moonlight.

"You don't need to be here," he said, his voice still rather scratchy and naturally deep. "Fleur's probably expecting you at home. Imagine she's tired of her husband spending so much time away from her."

"She understands," Bill said, flipping the page of his magazine, though he hadn't read a word, acting as though he wasn't all that interested in what his brother had to say. In actuality, he was waiting for it, preparing himself for any number of ways it could go. He cleared his throat, "So, mum really encouraged you to...?" he trailed off, knowing his brother would understand what he meant.

Charlie glanced at him, his expression tight. "It wasn't as if I hadn't considered it before. Needed a little encouragement I guess. Needed to know she wouldn't be disappointed," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "She brought it up though. All those things I said, she really did say to me. She didn't come right out and tell me to murder him, but..." He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. "I could tell she wanted me to. It was in her eyes. She needed him dead, figured of all of us I could do it." He shrugged his shoulder, as if it didn't hurt that his mother thought he could do such a heartless, barbaric thing like murder without feeling anything.

Bill shook his head, "I would have if--"

"Don't," Charlie told him, jerking his head. "Don't tell me you'd have done the same thing. It doesn't change anything. We were both there, Bill. We both saw him laying there. _Expelliarmus_ would have done it. He wouldn't have made it to his wand in time before we left." He sighed, rubbing at his face. "He was a mess. Never seen so much blood from one person before. And it didn't bother me. Didn't make me question what kind of person I was." He looked up, staring at Charlie. "He killed Percy. He _killed_ him. Just because he was at the Ministry. Because he was following protocol and not letting anybody in to see the Minister. Because he wouldn't save his own hyde and just run or hide or fight. Because he was _Percy_, for fuck sakes!" He laughed humorlessly, turning his eyes up as they filled. "I didn't feel a damn thing when I killed him. It didn't hurt, didn't even think of him an hour later when I was fighting for everyone I knew to live." He shook his head. "Complete disregard for his life but now I sit here expecting them to give me a way to save hers."

"That guy who killed Percy wasn't anything like Hermione. I hate to say it, Charlie, I do, but he didn't deserve to live. Not like Hermione does," Bill told him, shaking his head. "Magic can only give us so much and I know that it's a serious bit of shite that made it that we could take life but not give it, but that's how it is. We can't blame it on anyone. Even without magic, humans would kill and then expect miracles to save lives. That man died for taking the life of another. Hermione is in a coma because she had a passion for something, because she wanted to work in a world of dragons and fire. That was her decision. You can't blame yourself or her or mum, you can't blame anyone or anything, Charlie." He shook his head, "I know it hurts. I don't know how much and I pray to Merlin that I never do, because I see you and it scares me to think that I could ever feel pain like you are right now. But I know that Hermione fought for the rest of us to live how we wanted. She fought alongside Harry and Ron, she tore down the stigma that muggleborns were somehow less, she helped save the Wizarding world, more than the rest of us even if she refuses to admit it, and she would be so upset that you were left here to fall apart in the aftermath of everything. She got hurt doing something she _loved_, Charlie, how many people can say that?"

He sighed, shaking his head and standing up from his chair, rolling his magazine and thrusting it in the back pocket of his pants. "If she doesn't wake up then you're still going to have to live, Charlie." He stopped beside his brother, reaching out and pressing his hand against Hermione's abdomen. "You've got a little girl coming, a family that needs taking care of, and Hermione would never forgive you if you let that fall apart." He patted Charlie's shoulder before turning and walking to the door.

"I won't give up on her," Charlie told him, his voice strained and thick.

"I'm not asking you to, little brother," Bill replied, stopping in the doorway. "I'm asking you not to give up on yourself." Without waiting for a reply, he left the room, walking down the hallway toward the floo system. He had a wife waiting for him, awake and healthy, and he wasn't about to waste another minute taking for granted whatever time he had with her.

* * *

**A/N** _Once again, much earlier update than intended! Only Part Six and the Epilogue to go! Be sure to check out the chapter image on my profile! I'll probably update in the next couple days! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Have a great weekend :D_

_Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, it's very appreciated!  
Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	6. Part Six: A Dragon Keeper's Future

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_I am beyond amazed. Remember what I kept saying about how your characters are your strength, how you paint them so well and how they come together so realistically? That holds double for this chapter...the way that you built the characters previously meant that you had a good foundation to continue on from here. They came together so well. They reacted to one another logically, in ways that made sense and were dramatic and beatiful and scary and comprehensible and visualizable (is that a word?) and REAL. I'm an actor. I'm not professional, but I've done a lot of shows in a lot of styles and under lots of different conditions. The big thing, the pervasive thing about acting, the thing that new actors don't always get and the thing that outsiders (including and especially the audience) don't necessarily see is that performing a story for an audience is all about showing how the events being recounted affected the individuals in question - in other words, about how the individuals reacted to circumstances and how the circumstances reacted to them. If you do it right, then the work that goes into isn't seen - it just comes across as a very realistic story, because the choices and emotions and reactions of the characters make sense - it's what they would do in real life. It's not contrived or faked; there's no stretch involved. Being able to create that perception, that sensation, is the mark of a true storyteller - writer, actor, artist, whatever form you prefer. I don't know if you act, if you watch plays, if you watch people, whatever - but you caught the way that people react in real life perfectly on paper. You managed to capture the "react" in people exactly the way that it is - and having done that, your story becomes not so much a "story", an invented series of events, as an anecdote - a retelling of a true story, something that happened (although only in your mind), something feasible and realistic, something with characters that are really human and that make sense and walk and talk and act and live the way humans really do. Managing to do that sets you apart from the average writer and makes you better than half the published authors out that. For that, brava. You are incredible, and so is your story. I can't wait to read more. :-)_" - **_Filette_** of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _x-Lazart-x, Jester08, pattilarr, Galleon-to-Galleon, Lee Swain, ginsensu, Hailz98, bethygirl94, ShatteredTruth, rachhulk, CraZIEdUCKIE, FredWeasleyLover1126, Agar Loki, xxElekaNamenxx, mariaboombaby, wifelady21, pstibbons, ebbe04, **BBRuth, Cetlic-Dragon-89, wasu, MsRisa, ssdawn, sodabug**_ and_ especially **broadwaychik07, CrystalizedHeart **(Mel)**, Filette**_ and _**galloping-goose** (Zeus)._

_**Only In The World of Dragons**_

_Part Six – A Dragon Keeper's Future_

There was no change after three months, and Charlie was completely separated from the rest of the Weasley family. He hadn't spoken to his mother since the fight they had in the hospital room when he lost his temper. He was tired, exhausted from waiting and not being rewarded with even a twitch of her hand. He was sick of hearing everyone's voice but hers. By knowing that he was the reason she was where she was. He should have pushed harder, should have convinced her that it was a bad idea. Especially after they got there, after he'd seen so many go down. She wasn't as seasoned as the rest, hell she hadn't even had her first big burn. Instead he did his job and she had suffered for it. He'd seen her sail through the air, terrified but thinking more of the baby than herself. And so he sat and waited, to tell her how sorry he was, to hold her again, to start the life that he wasn't willing to let go of. But she didn't wake up, not even for a second. She just lay there, still and quiet, with nothing but the beat of her heart and the steady flow of her breathing to keep him company in the silence.

Charlie wasn't speaking with most of the visitors that dropped in to see Hermione or him. He spoke to Jonas, though the conversations were always halted now, too bogged down with the seriousness of everything. Charlie appreciated that Jonas never went out of his way to tell Charlie that he should get out more or admit to himself that Hermione may never wake up. If anything, he stayed true to the idea that Hermione would wake up, that she and Charlie would eventually get back to normality and Jonas would have his best mates back to share stories with and continue the adventures of dragon keeping. He snuck Crookshanks in when Charlie admitted to feeling like shite for leaving the furball back at the tent with nobody to really care for him. Upon arrival, Jonas was scratched up and muttering, but Crookshanks looked quite pleased that he could curl up with Hermione again. The moody half-kneazle learned quickly to hide when the nurses or healers came by the room, thankfully, and Charlie thought Hermione would appreciate it when she woke up.

For the first month, Harry and Ron continued to come by daily, but during the second month their careers interfered and it became every few days. Molly never wavered in her visits, showing up every morning, lunch hour, and during supper to make sure Charlie was eating, even if they weren't speaking. Charlie continued to act as if it didn't matter to him whether she kissed his head before she left, or squeezed his shoulder to renew his strength. The twins had to return to work, but they dropped in when they could, bringing lighthearted stories to share with Hermione and trying to make Charlie crack a smile. Sometimes, Angelina and Alicia joined them and Charlie was forced through the pitying looks and awkward hugs. It was nothing compared to when Ron brought Parvati though, who Charlie only put up with out of courtesy to his brother. He never liked reporters, and his feelings toward Parvati were just the same. He found himself scowling whenever she got a look on her face as if she thought Charlie's situation with Hermione would make a great front page editorial. At least when Luna was there she didn't bring up The Quibbler at all. She just sat near Hermione, telling her something that Hermione would most likely think was ridiculous and impossible. Charlie could imagine how she would react and found himself nearly smiling at times when Luna shared a new bit of information on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks or nargles.

Bill came in almost every day after work, not always saying something, usually just taking up residence in a chair and cracking open a magazine or book. Charlie found himself comforted by the presence of his brother, though he never told him so. He found himself brooding most of the time, falling into an angry state that he just couldn't get himself out of. He read to her sometimes, late at night, when everyone else at St. Mungo's was fast asleep. He'd take out a book, go to the dog-eared page and read aloud to her, his voice strong but not loud as he sat next to her, the pages lit by the glow of a candle on the bedside table behind him. At first it was whatever tomes she had around her tent, informative books that he knew she'd like, but then he changed them entirely. After talking to her Obstetrician Healer about how his daughter was progressing, he took a new approach. He had Jonas buy him a few children's books and began reading to her stomach. Stroking her bump, he'd tell her tales of magical creatures on incredible journeys or witches and wizards learning valuable lessons. He found he could sleep easier after he read to his daughter, though his heart felt heavy when he realized Hermione didn't have the luxury of hearing the story or talking to him about their daughter. She didn't know how much their little girl was slowly growing inside of her or all the promising things the Ob Healer kept telling him about her.

After three months, she was over five months into her pregnancy and it was more than just a little obvious. She had a nice sized bump, which he heard his mum awing over whenever she visited. Even the twins talked about it in a teasing manner, making light of Hermione putting on a few pounds and joking that if she were to wake up, she'd probably have a good right hook for the both of them. Harry seemed a lot more receptive to Hermione's pregnancy than Ron was. He touched her stomach, smiled sometimes in a mysteriously happy way and admitted that he thought Hermione would be a great mother. Ron never talked about it, didn't even move to touch the forming bump. He sometimes pinned Charlie with an accusatory stare, as if he had done something inexcusable. Charlie was never sure if it was letting Hermione face danger while pregnant, or getting her pregnant to begin with and he didn't ask. He had a rocky relationship with anybody Weasley and he wasn't looking to change it. He was more concerned with his forming family and he felt no desire to change it. He knew he was being calloused and his mother was worrying over him constantly, but he was too distracted to think of her feelings.

It was at the end of the first month that he decided he needed to do something. He'd always been active and sitting in a chair all day long was driving him nutters. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Hermione shortly after finding out about the baby and made a huge decision based not only on the hope that she would wake up, but the knowledge that in four short months, he'd have a baby girl to take care of. He wasn't about to do anything that Hermione wouldn't appreciate, even if (Merlin-forbid) she didn't wake up, he wanted something she would like. So he left early the morning after a full month had passed to see through the plan they had roughly made earlier on.

_Hermione walked beside him, her palm pressed against her flat abdomen. She had a soft smile on her face and Charlie couldn't help but glance at her constantly as they made their way over to see Sal to check on how his diet was coming along and let him stretch his wings and legs for awhile. They'd been working for an hour and not two hours ago, Charlie had been informed that he was going to be a dad in seven short months. They hadn't had much time to talk about what was going to happen now, conversing in between treks to other dragon housing units. They had agreed to tell the rest of his family and Harry that weekend. They realized it was a lot to take in, but they weren't willing to keep such a huge revelation a secret. They were starting their own family and the people that had been with them in the past, deserved to know about their future._

"_I don't know if a crib really goes with the tents," Charlie finally told her, his mouth spitting out one of the million things on his mind since he found out she was pregnant. Just the one piece of information had his thought process on overdrive. He had so many questions, so many hopes. He felt a burst of excitement in his chest, akin to what he felt when he helped wrangle a dragon in, or when he played jump the spiked tail. It was fear and adrenaline, excitement and not just a little bit of apprehension. He wanted to believe that he was ready, that he'd be a good father, but he'd be lying to himself if he said he was completely sure of everything. He'd grown up taking care of his younger brothers, but his mother did most of the work. The idea that he'd be the one taking care of his own child, the late night feedings, teaching them the alphabet and how to say words like 'daddy' and 'dragon,' watching them grow up and fall down and evolve. There was a little life that would depend on him and the idea was both incredible and terrifying. He couldn't wait._

"_So what d'you suggest?" she asked, looking up at him, lifting a brow curiously. The heated sun of the summer had left her with a warm tan and her hair shimmered as the light hit. He wondered if it was just the glimmer of the sun or if all those clichés about pregnant women glowing were true. She was radiant._

_He grinned at her. A plan having taken form as they worked and he contemplated fatherhood and their forming family. "Well, there's always that house up for sale that we pass on our way down to Scales. Jonas calls it the halfway point," he reminded. "We did say that if we were going to have a family, we could move out of the reserve. Doesn't mean we can't still work here, but a house would be--" He was cut off by her jumping forward and wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Quickly embracing her back, worried that she might slip if he didn't, he grinned. Nine months of holding her and he still felt a pleasured shiver run down his spine when she was so close. He could smell her, the scent of coconut on her hair, the tropical flavor of her sugarless candy making her breath sweet. He could feel the dampness on her skin from the sun, too, as his hand settled on the small of her back, beneath the rise of her shirt. "I take that as a yes?" he asked amused._

_She nodded against his neck, her hand running through his short hair quickly, tugging lightly. He could feel her breath against his throat, warm as she pressed a kiss to his skin. "D'you think it has gnomes?" she asked rather excitedly._

_Charlie laughed, adjusting her a little more comfortable before he continued walking toward Sal's keep. "You are possibly the only witch to ever **want** a garden with gnomes!" he told her, his arms tightening around her warmly. He liked that, the oddity that was Hermione. He knew what she meant, understood that she wanted a small and more uniquely **them** form of the family his parents had made. That and he knew she enjoyed watching him as he de-gnomed the garden, shirtless and sweating. She was a minx, he surmised, his minx._

_She chuckled, pulling back to smile up at him before leaning in to press her mouth against his, slow and intoxicating. Charlie's eyes fell closed and his feet stumbled to a stop. He felt the familiar tingle in his stomach that didn't seem to lessen over the time they'd spent together. She was destined to be the only adventure that would never cease to feel amazing. He pulled her up closer, one of his hands burying in her hair as he held her mouth against his almost desperately. She tasted like mangoes and pineapple, tangy and exotic. Her sugarless candy was almost completely melted, but he knew she'd have another when she was finished with the one pressed against the inside of her cheek. Her tongue was warm and exhilarating as it tangled with his, tasting, dancing, embracing. His shoulders fell with content, he was about ready to forget about the rest of the day. He could hardly remember his own name, let alone what they were supposed to be doing, where they were supposed to be going. She slowly broke away from his mouth, licking her lips and grinning at him, her half-lidded eyes sparkling back at him. He stared back at her dazed, his mouth still tingling and his eyes half open lazily._

_Hermione's voice reached his ears, soft and happy. "She'll have her own room and we'll decorate it with little hatchlings all over the walls in all the colours of every dragon!" she told him excitedly. "And she'll be the happiest little girl ever, she'll have so much family around her." She half-frowned, "Now if only Bill and Fleur, and the twins and their halves could get it together, she'd have cousins her age to play with."_

_Charlie's laugh rumbled up from his chest. "She?"_

_Hermione nodded decisively. "Given just how many Weasley boys there are, it only serves that there should be another girl!" she told him, her brows lifted high._

"_The probability is low," he reminded, shaking his head. "The Weasley's have a tendency for boys. Ginny was the first girl in a very, very long time."_

_Hermione thinned her eyes, staring at him stubbornly. "Just you watch, Charlie, it'll be a girl."_

_He smirked, shrugging one shoulder and beginning to walk again, easily holding her up in the air and looking over her shoulder so he wouldn't run into anything. He could have put her down, but he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms and the knowledge that his baby was close and safe. He still didn't like the idea of them being so close to the dragons when she was in such a delicate state. He wasn't going to bother her with that now though, there wasn't much left of their work day and he was quite interested in the subject they were discussing. "Do we have a name for this little girl of ours then?" he wondered, half-smiling._

_She nodded, a slow smile appearing. "Ashby," she told him in a soft tone._

_He repeated it, his eyes turned up thoughtfully. "I like it," he agreed, nodding. "But just in case... what if it is a boy?"_

_Shifting in his arms, she shook her head stubbornly. Frowning, she told him, "But I know it'll be a girl."_

"_Yeah, but hypothetically," he said, lifting his brows. "Or for future reference," he added, smirking._

_Hermione rolled her eyes, her arms tightening around his neck. "I have two picked out," she told him matter-of-factly, her fingers playing with the ends of his hair as her palms clasped the back of his neck._

"_Yeah?" he asked, lifting a brow. "And how long have you been thinking about naming our children?" He grinned to himself, watching her expression as it passed mildly uncomfortable to vaguely dismissive. He was rather bolstered by the fact that she had been thinking of them in terms of forever for awhile. He wondered when she knew, for certain, that they were **it**._

_She shrugged, her eyes turning off. "It was a natural conclusion," she told him, eyeing the dragons as they passed their huffing, anxious forms._

"_Really?" he asked smirking, the hand holding her thigh squeezing it lightly._

"_Of course," she said, sounding mildly exasperated though Charlie knew it was only to hide the fact that she had admitted to being rather sentimental about them. _

_Hermione was usually very logical and scientific but when it came to them, she let her shield drop a little. It wasn't all about books and cleverness, it involved heart and intimacy. When it was just them, they didn't have to think about the statistics that wouldn't support them. So they weren't the most logical pairing, most would think him lacking too much intelligence for her, too brutish, while others would think her prudish and rather snobby, too uptight for someone like Charlie. But they'd have it all wrong, they didn't see it the way Charlie and Hermione did. They didn't understand the couple like just the two of them did. He was the adventurous, adrenaline seeking half, someone in need of a person to take care of him, to see to his fresh injuries, chastise him a bit, but love him none-the-less. He was the one who played games that could get him gouged and burned, but picked himself up to continue on or get cleaned up so he could do it again in the future. He looked to Hermione to be his common sense, to soothe his burns and scrapes with salves and wrap them with while listening to his rather illogical explanation before shaking her head and hoping he wouldn't do it again, while simultaneously loving his desire for exhilaration. Hermione had a need for adventure herself, but she was more careful and calculated, she used logic and common sense to keep herself out of harms way most of the time. She had a love for learning and intelligence that could outweigh many and she had a tendency to get lost in tomes and the world of books. She was someone who needed somebody who could understand her thirst for dragons, the heat of their licking fire breath, the shimmering awe of their scales, the intelligence behind the eyes of century old creatures. She needed somebody to ground her in a world outside of books and dragons, to show her tenderness while not under appreciating her independent nature. They fit together, no matter what others saw, they saw their other halves in the form of someone unlikely._

"_Right," he said with an agreeable nod. "So what were our son's names?"_

"_I figured Adam or Edan," she told him, her mouth curving knowledgeably. "Adam means 'Man of Earth' and Edan means 'Fiery Flame'!" Her eyes lit up with the explanation, her mind working overtime._

_He thought about them for a moment. Mouthing them to himself. Ashby Weasley, Edan Weasley, Adam Weasley, they sounded right. "I like them," he told her, nodding. He could already see it in his head, the house down the way, filled with red or brown hair, a couple boys and a girl, their family. He found himself grinning wistfully and cleared his throat. He was getting a little nostalgic. Their first child wasn't due for seven months and he was already thinking of having two more. Chuckling, he squeezed her before setting her down near Sal's keep. "Come on, let's get this finished up and then you can get back for dinner and a nap. Ashby needs food and sleep!" he told her, winking._

_Hermione rolled her eyes. "Always with the nap. Honestly! Charlie, I'm not even tired!" she told him, shaking her head as she walked toward the overweight, aging dragons keep, muttering under her breath._

_Charlie sighed, content. "Ashby," he repeated to himself again. Yeah, he really liked that._

The house he bought that morning needed more than a little help. The outside was nice enough but the inside needed renovations all over. It was two floors, three bedrooms on the second floor and a beamed ceiling that he knew Hermione would love. The main bedroom had a connecting door to the rather large bathroom, which had an incredibly ugly pea soup green tub and matching toilet in it that nearly made him chuckle. He decided they would have to go, knowing Hermione would give him her disapproving frown if she set eyes on the ugly toiletries. The carpeting had to go too, at least in the main bedroom. He remembered Hermione mentioning how much she loved hardwood floors and wanted the house to be as much hers as it could be, even if she wasn't going to wake up. It would be something she wanted in her home and whether or not she ever set foot in it, he knew deep down that it was her home, too.

The downstairs was in serious need of an overhaul. There was awful peeling wallpaper everywhere, faded and torn. The kitchen was large and airy, but the cupboards were broken and the counters were chipped and miscoloured. The linoleum covering the floor was scuffed and old, in need of being replaced. He knew he had a lot to do and felt both happy to have something to keep him moving and distracted and guilty for leaving her alone in her hospital room. His heart told him he was a jerk for spending even a moment away from her side, while his head logically told him that Hermione would rather them have a home to return to than know that he wasted away in a chair beside her bed. So he mentally took in everything that needed to be done and what he'd need for it. He didn't want it to be put together with a wand, he wanted to put his own hard work into building a home. If in four months or four years or four decades, nobody but him and Ashby ever lived in it, then he would be content in knowing that he built a real home for his little girl, that Hermione would be proud of him for giving their daughter the very best.

He spent his mornings and afternoons at the house, but his nights in her room, reading a book to her stomach or simply talking to her. He missed the sound of her voice, the way she always seemed to have something to say. He missed seeing her smile and feeling her next to him as he fell asleep. The comfort of their beds, the familiarity of her body wrapped around his, the soft scent of her hair as she cuddled up to him. It was driving him insane not having her around, he found himself becoming more and more inverted, having nothing left to say, nobody to talk to. He ignored people when they asked where he'd been or what he was doing. He didn't answer his mother when she asked how he got paint in his hair or why his finger was taped up (bloody hammer!). The only one in his family who wasn't curious was Bill, who kept to himself and continued on in his quiet support from the corner as he read a book or a magazine. Ginny was the most curious, constantly questioning what he was doing and if she could help. He knew she only wanted to be there for him, to help keep him afloat, but he didn't want her help, or anybody's really.

It took an entire month on his own, fixing up the house in random spots, never staying in just one, before he finally told somebody, and it wasn't up to him anyway. Jonas had noticed that the house was slowly becoming more appealing when he made his way down to Scales for a nightcap with Crystal. He'd noticed the fresh forest green paint on the outside and the replaced pieces to the front porch, no longer falling apart with various holes between the white posts. He'd even managed to notice that the four steps leading up to the porch and front door were newly painted and no longer broken. So Charlie admitted that he bought it and had been fixing it up every day, that he'd worked in every room, but mostly one. It wasn't two days later before Jonas showed up looking like a rather amusing handyman from the Muggle world, with a tool belt around his waist and a hammer in his hand. Charlie didn't tell him to leave like he thought he would if any of his family found him, but offered him a butterbeer from the fridge, to which Jonas promptly replied, "Merlin, Char, don'cha know how teh do this? Yer s'pose to offer alcohol of some sort and then we spend half the day goofin' off a'fore we finally get down teh business," he told him before looking around with a half-frown. "So... what do I get teh hammer first? Gotta love them Muggles for makin' tools teh smash things," he said, grinning. "Yeh ever use a sledge hammer, Char?" he wondered devilishly.

Rolling his eyes, Charlie showed him the living room and put him to work on a project he was sure he'd enjoy. From sunrise to sunset, Charlie spent his days tearing up carpet and pulling down wall paper. He spent a few hours deliberating paint, knowing Hermione would be picky about what she wanted her home to be decorated in and finally found a few colours he felt suited them. Nothing too flashy or abundantly dull, just something comfortable and warm. He figured if she didn't like them, he could always repaint. He just wanted it to be ready, to be something she'd want to wake up and come home to. Some part of him rather thought that if he kept working, if he fixed it all up, if it was just like how she wanted it, she'd wake up. She'd open her eyes and smile at him, because he'd done it for them. He'd made a home and he was ready for them to fill it. But his head told him that was illogical, that she wasn't waiting for something like a house for her to live in to be ready before she opened her eyes. She was in a coma and no matter how much he renovated, no matter how much carpet he pulled up or how polished the house looked, she wasn't going to roll over and wake up. But he kept on, disregarding logic entirely.

With Jonas' help they remodeled the entire first floor, replacing the cupboards and counters with all new wood and marble. They used the original set of the kitchen, but built their own set of cupboards to put in and worked in a more polished and modern counter top. Charlie bought new appliances for the kitchen, all in a bright ivory colour. Jonas put in black floor tiles and painted the walls, taking a liking to building the kitchen, stating that it was a "place of worship," because, "it's where food is made, Char. Tha' can't be taken lightly, mate." Given that Jonas never let a meal pass him by, Charlie wasn't surprised. He was happy with what Jonas had done, finding that the kitchen and dining room were two of the nicest rooms in the house. Furniture, cutlery, and pots and pans had all been purchased in the town down the way and Charlie left Jonas to fill the cupboards with it.

Charlie spent hours looking through furniture stores, trying to figure out just what Hermione would like and what would be safe and comfortable for his daughter. He didn't want a stiff, angular couch, like the many he'd seen in numerous stores. He wanted something comfortable and big. Before he knew it, he had a full living room set covering the royal blue carpet. It took some work getting the fireplace going, but he got it fixed and connected it to the Floo system so he could take it directly to St. Mungo's or the Burrow. He hadn't gone over to the Burrow since hooking it up, but he felt comforted in knowing that it the connection was there if ever he needed it. He knew that despite the fact that he was having problems with his mum and couldn't bring himself to talk to the rest of the family, he would eventually open up to them again. He just needed time and while he was still rather angry at his mum, he did appreciate her coming in to see him. He hadn't seen her for anything but dinner for the last few months and she didn't stop asking where he he'd been or what he was doing, which Charlie never answered, but just knowing that she wasn't giving up relaxed him.

Charlie found he spent most of his time working on Ashby's bedroom, designing it the way he knew Hermione and his daughter would like. He wanted believable portraits of the dragons high up on the Romanian hills, viewable from his own room's window. After realizing he wasn't much of an artist, he gave in and hired a painter from the town down the road and had the older man paint the dragons with Charlie watching to make sure they were accurate. The colours and movements of the dragons were comforting and since he hadn't been up to see the beautiful creatures that had haunted his dreams since he was a young boy, he instead watched their shimmering bodies fly and breathe fire over the walls of his daughter's bedroom. He had the artist charm the walls so that they would follow the cycle of a year for each dragon, having them hatch during the months that, as a dragon keeper, he would naturally be watching over the eggs for hatching. They would then grow over the year until returning to eggs to start all over again.

Furnishing Ashby's room was something Charlie wanted to do on his own, so instead of buying it all, he bought a few books on how to build a crib and the other furniture he wanted. While Jonas was working around the rest of the upper half of the house, cleaning up the hallway and putting together the bathroom, Charlie measured and sawed at wood, sanding and shaping it for hours each day. After creating a hard maple wood crib with cherry accents, Charlie was feeling pretty good about himself. So he set out to create a dresser and rocking chair, too, taking a few weeks, working from the earliest of hours to just before supper to get it all made for the room. Finishing the dresser with a clean white paint, he found Ashby's room was looking ready for her and the reality that she was set to be born within a few short months began to set in.

Charlie found refuge in rebuilding the majority of the house, giving it a whole new edge that he felt worked for him and Hermione. It was beginning to come together and Charlie found his hope rising each morning when he walked inside to see a new part of it complete. It was early morning while he was putting the hardwood floors in his and Hermione's bedroom when he heard a throat clear and knew, without having to look, that it wasn't Jonas. His shoulders tensed and he stared down at the floor, not sure if he wanted to look. He was breathing heavy from the work he'd been putting in all morning. The room was rather hot, even with the window open and he felt sweat beading on his skin and his hair damp against his forehead. The preparation had taken enough time and he'd only recently been able to start the installation. Now he knew why Jonas thought putting carpets in was a better idea. Sighing, Charlie stood up from his knees and turned to see who had found out about his side project during the day and found his father standing in the doorway, holding what looked to be a cup of tea in each hand.

Slowly scanning the room, Arthur Weasley nodded. "The house is coming along nicely," he told him, sounding only mildly cheerful. Charlie simply nodded in response, not sure what to say or even think of his dad being there. He had been expecting Bill, maybe Molly, but his father hadn't crossed his mind. "I like the kitchen and the baby's room is..." He gave a faint smile, his wrinkles becoming more prominent but a fatherly love shining in his eyes. "Well, my little granddaughter is going to have a wonderful time growing up here, Charlie," he told him, his voice mildly raspy. He held his hand out, the tea waiting to be taken. Charlie stared at it a moment before putting his tools down, wiping his face with the back of his arm and taking the tea from Arthur. He motioned for him to follow him down the hall to the other room on the second floor, which Charlie had recently built bookshelves for. There were a few chairs near the desk and Charlie slumped into one, nodding to the other for his dad to follow.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Arthur sat down and sipped at his tea, his eyes roaming the room Charlie had meant to be a library of sorts. He'd already filled a good portion with Hermione's book and another few shelves with all of the books he'd bought for Ashby and himself, wanting to know all he could about raising a baby. He had a few on single parenting, just in case, but he hadn't touched them yet, leaving them off to the side, afraid that if he opened one, it might become a certain reality. His dad reached out, pulling a book down and smiled to himself, "I used to read this to you when you were knee high to a gnome," he told him, shaking his head with a fatherly grin.

Charlie cocked his head to see what the title of the small book was and half-smiled. "_Drew the Dragon and his Drum_." He found whenever he read it to Ashby she kicked more than usual, as if she was excited. His dad's chuckle made him look up from the book, to find that Arthur had rather watery eyes as he gazed down at the new edition of the children's book.

Arthur rubbed at his eyebrows with his curled hand, as if trying to push away the furrow that had formed. His smile was wavering and he let out a strangle laugh, to try and cover his emotion. "When you were just a little boy you'd get me to read this to you every night. Often more than once," he told Charlie, shaking his head. "And I'd have to bring one of your mum's pots up for you to bang every time it said Drew had hit his drum." He sniffled, staring down at the book, his chin tight and his mouth thin. "And then you'd tell me, you'd say, 'Daddy, when I'm older I'm gonna have a dragon and I'll teach him to play the drum!'" He laughed, shaking his head, swallowing audibly as he closed his eyes.

A silence fell over the room and Charlie found himself thinking back to when he was just a little boy and he thought his father could fix all the problems of the world. Arthur had been his hero, a flawless man who held Charlie on his shoulders as if he were the king of the world. He could still remember what it felt like to be up so high, looking down on everything from the top of his dad's shoulders, thinking that everything else seemed so small compared to him because he was as high as anybody could be. There was no place like that of Arthur's shoulders, with the wind flying around him, the birds still out of reach but closer than they had been before he was lifted up by his admirable father. Would his daughter feel the same about Charlie? Would she look up at him with love shining in her eyes and think that he held the greatest answers to the world on his shoulders? Could he be as good a father as his own?

His father's voice broke through his thoughts, bringing his gaze back up the aging and man whose shoulders now were heavy with emotion and circumstance rather than the weight of his little boy. "You know Charlie, I was very proud when you told me you were going to be a dragon keeper," he told him, nodding. Charlie's brow furrowed, he'd always thought his parents disapproved of his rather dangerous lifestyle. "I know your mum was scared and thought you were doing something foolish, but I was... I was happy for you. I knew, always knew, that you wanted to be with the dragons. It was dangerous and exciting and you'd always thrived on that kind of experience." He looked up, staring at Charlie steadily, "There's nothing wrong with that, son. Nobody blames you for what happened to Hermione. She... She _loved_ dragons too, Charlie. It's probably one of the reasons you two work out so well. So many of us can't understand the connection you have with them, we can't... we can't comprehend living amongst something so fierce and strong. But you and Hermione... you match their strength and you battle it." His eyes shone with what Charlie thought might be admiration, but couldn't be sure. He didn't think his dad could ever be in awe of him, not when he'd spent so many of his years looking up to Arthur as if he could do no wrong. It seemed out of place for his dad to think of him as worthy of being looked up to.

"What happened..." Arthur began, his eyes falling and his voice becoming sad, "it was..." He sighed, shaking his head. "I know you blame yourself. I know that you want to hate yourself for not stopping her, but Charlie..." He lifted his eyes to stare at his second eldest son, understanding lying in the green depths. "Hermione is the most stubborn and strong willed woman next to your mum," he told him, chuckling lightly. "She wanted to be out there, she wanted to help, she had to do her job. Whatever happened, whatever you think you _didn't_ do right, you're just upset, son. You're mad because you weren't able to catch her, that you don't know how to magically reverse a coma, but..." He sighed, rubbing his hand over his balding head. "There is nothing you can do but what you've been doing."

He lifted his hand from the book, letting it sit on his knee as he motioned to the room around them. "All of this, the house, that's good Charlie. You're thinking of a future, for you and Ashby and hopefully Hermione. But son... you need to stop hiding from the rest of us," Arthur told him, shaking his head. "I know that she's your family and she always will be. She will always be the mother of your daughter whether she wakes up or not, but Charlie... there are others who want to be there for you. You have a younger sister who is going stir crazy not knowing how you're doing. Your mum is driving me barmy asking if I know what you've been doing every day and I never tell her." He sighed, frowning. "The twins still go in to see Hermione whenever they can but they're worried now that you're not there any more. Harry's been asking about you and while Ron isn't saying anything his fear is there, too." Arthur rubbed at his face, looking much older than Charlie remembered in the past. "Talk to me Charlie, you've always been able to talk to me," he asked, his eyes staring out sadly.

Charlie stared at him, his body stiff as he listened to his father lay it all out in front of him. How long had it been since he'd actually seen his dad? His brothers and sister came and went and he hadn't seen most of them for months given that their usual visiting hours occurred while Charlie was still away working on the house. Sometimes they stopped by shortly after he returned or he'd come back to find a few of them leaving, but he never said anything, simply took up his place at her side and resumed what they were used to him doing. He didn't know what to say, still felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility for what happened. The only brother he'd spent any significant amount of time with was Bill but they didn't speak at all. His father was still waiting for him to talk and while there was a multitude of things running through his mind, he wasn't sure what to say.

Finally, Arthur seemed to give up. He put the _Drew the Dragon_ book back on the shelf and rose from his chair. After a deep sigh, he opened his mouth for what Charlie was sure would be a goodbye.

"One of the first people I thought of when she told me she was pregnant was you," he finally said, his voice hoarse from being used so little.

Rather startled, Arthur stared at him a moment before sitting back down in his seat and nodding for Charlie to continue.

Swallowing, Charlie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I thought... I'm gonna be a dad and-- and who else to talk to about it all than my own dad?" He looked up, glancing at Arthur momentarily before returning his gaze to the floor, new beige carpet that he put in last week staring back at him. "I figured after seven children you had to know everything there was and I couldn't think of anybody else I really wanted to tell. I mean... I know I wanted the rest of the family to know, but... I just... really wanted to talk to you about it," he admitted, shrugging uncomfortably. Rubbing his face with his calloused palm, he leaned back in his chair, slumped and tired. "I had so many questions." He licked his lips. "I was kind of scared. I was... I am still..." He shook his head, a small smile finding his mouth as he looked to see his father staring back, eyes wet and a shaky smile present. "I'm gonna be a dad," he said, his voice shaking. Arthur nodded at him, looking proud. That feeling Charlie had first had when Hermione told him that she was pregnant was slowly returning, the elation mixed with a bit of fear, the excitement tinged with apprehension.

Then it all evaporated again and his smile became a grimace. "I'm gonna be a dad and the woman who was supposed to be a mum isn't... isn't even _awake_," he finally said, anger forcing its way into his chest painfully. "We were..." He grit his teeth, his face heating up and his eyes burning. "We were so close to having that-- that happily ever after and then..." He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I shouldn't have let her work that day, at all!" he told him vehemently. "Two months pregnant already and we had been lucky. I mean... we were so fucking lucky that nothing happened in that two months," he said angrily as he waved his arm around for emphasis. "And then that morning she tells me that it was her last day and I was still... I thought... I really should have stopped her... We knew... we _knew_ that the new dragon was strong and problematic but we thought we could handle it and she'd be done before dinner." He shook his head, his eyebrows raised and his vision blurred with hot tears. "And then she was in the air and I thought... I thought that was it, you know?" He looked up at his dad, his jaw shaking. "I thought I'd lost them both and it was all over and-- and I didn't know what I was going to do if I didn't have them anymore. I hadn't even known a whole day and the idea of not having the baby any more scared me so much. I..." He shook his head, closing his eyes.

"It's okay Charlie," Arthur told him quietly, his hand reaching out to grasp Charlie's forearm comfortingly.

"No," Charlie choked out, shaking his head. "No, it's not okay." He let out a shuddering breath, his shoulders slumping further. "I can't do it without her. I can't... I can't raise our daughter and... I just, I can't." He shook his head, "I'll have to look at her every day and know that I--" He swallowed painfully, "That if I had tried a little harder she'd still have her mum and it's all my fault and she'll never forgive me."

"Charlie--" his father began pityingly.

"No," he cut him off, pressing a hand to his eyes trying to push away the tears building. "Ashby is going to wonder when she's older and she'll ask me what happened and why her mum wasn't awake and there to see her ride her first broom or to see her off to Hogwarts or talk to her about the boy I'll never let her date and... And I'm going to have to tell her that I'm the reason her mum is in some ward at St. Mungo's sleeping away her life. I'm the reason she'll never hold our daughter or see the house or..." He grit his teeth, the emotion in his throat burning away the words that pained him to admit.

"Charlie, did you force her to go out there and help with the dragon?" Arthur asked, his voice stern and questioning.

He frowned, "No, but--"

"And did you try and tell her that it was a bad idea, that she shouldn't take the risk?" he asked, cutting him off.

Sighing, he rolled his eyes, "Yeah, but--"

"And despite the fact that you tried to stop her and she knew that it was dangerous, didn't she still think it was safe enough for her to go on?" Arthur asked him, staring at him steadily.

"Yes," Charlie replied quietly, his eyes falling. "But Hermione's always been stubborn, she didn't think she'd be hurt in the process. We've wrangled numerous dragons before and never had much of a problem," Charlie defended, shaking his head.

"Exactly, Charlie," his father replied, his voice less stern. "She'd done it all before and never had a problem. She'd been fine for two months of her pregnancy and she saw no reason to suddenly become weak, it's just the way Hermione is. She probably really thought that you guys would finish up with the dragon and there wouldn't have been any problems. You weren't expecting any of this to happen and I know..." He squeezed Charlie's arm tightly, "I know that if Hermione were awake she'd tell you to stop blaming yourself. She wouldn't want you to cut yourself off from your family or to wallow here without her. She wanted you and her to have a future, with a family and a home and each other." He shook his head, frowning sadly. "Some of those things may not happen, Charlie, you have to prepared for that. But if she doesn't wake up, you'll have a daughter and a home. You'll have a future of taking care of Ashby and that is nothing to dread, Charlie. It'll be hard and there will be bumps and mistakes, but you will always have me and your mother to fall back on. No matter how angry you are or how upset you are with us or yourself, you can always come to us for help."

Charlie nodded, sighing lightly.

"Now," Arthur said, rising from his seat. "I best get back, I have a lot of paperwork waiting on my desk." Putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder, he squeezed it. "The house is coming along nicely, but there's still a lot of work to be done. I bet if you come by tonight for dinner, you can talk your brothers into lending a hand," he told him, nodding. "Your mum is making casserole," he said cheerfully as he walked to the door. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he smiled proudly back at Charlie before making his way down the hall, whistling to himself.

Rising from his seat, Charlie knocked back the cooling tea in his hand and returned to his and Hermione's room to finish what he started, his shoulders a little less tense, his mind a little more relaxed.

"Charlie," he heard his father call out.

"Yeah?" he replied, leaning back out the door to hear him easier.

There was a pause before Arthur recited, "Drew the dragon loved his drum, but his parents did not like the way it went..."

"Dum de dum dum," he finished, rapping the tune against the wall with his fist, smiling to himself. He didn't have to see his dad to know that he was smiling too.

Hours later, while Charlie sat on the bench swing of his porch, he watched the sun set over the hills of Romania. His booted feet sat on the bright white deck pushing lightly to make the bench sway forward and backward a few inches. A light breeze slipped over his skin, feeling nice against the aching muscles and heated skin. Jonas sat on the stairs a few feet away, his legs crossed in front of him on the dirt pathway, a cold bottle of lager sitting in his hand and his head thrown back, hair plastered down from sweat. He came every day to help, didn't complain anymore than usual with a humorous lilt to it. He supported Charlie the only way he knew how, by being there, by being the friend he'd always been. And while Charlie never said anything, he was sure that Jonas knew he appreciated it. Realizing what time it was, he knew that with the time difference his family would be sitting down for dinner soon. He remembered what his father had said to him and questioned whether he was ready to open himself up to a family that while very supportive, was also very curious. He couldn't quite remember how long it had been since he'd last set foot in the Burrow and that thought bothered him. His childhood home used to be a place that while he didn't see it as much as he liked, always held a sense of comfort for him.

Standing up from the chair, Charlie stretched his arms above his head and sighed, long and heavy. He looked over to Jonas, who had opened one eye to see what he was up to and noticed that his friend had a knowing half-smile on his face. He too stood up and knocked back that last of his lager before tossing the bottle for Charlie to catch. "Best get back teh camp, Crystal's probably wonderin' where I wandered off teh. Haven' told her 'bout this place, just told her I had somethin' teh do. Probably thinks I'm out with a pretty thin' from town or somethin'. Gettin' a bit attached teh the girl, wouldn' want her leavin' me over a house I won't even be livin' in myself," he said with a lighthearted laugh. "I'll see yeh tomorrow, Char." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and started walking down the path, stopping a few feet away and turning around with a grin. "Might want teh get some more lager and butterbeer though. I get parched easily, yeh know." He nodded before turning off and continuing on down the path.

Rolling his eyes, Charlie walked into the house to toss away the bottle and quickly changed into the clothes Jonas had dropped off for him earlier. He figured he'd stop in and see the family quickly, get the awkwardness over with and head over to the hospital to spend the night with Hermione. After showering in the half-finished bathroom, he slipped into the clean clothes, noting that it was Hermione's favorite blue sweater of his and stopped in the study to grab the book he wanted to read Ashby. Walking downstairs, he felt the familiar surge of comfort as his hand slipped over the smooth banister of his home. Making his way over to the fireplace, he paced for a moment, trying to shake off the discomfort he felt as returning to the Burrow. He hadn't spoken a word to most of the people in the room for what seemed like forever. His mum would likely pitch a fit and usher him into a chair to try filling him with dinner. He wasn't sure if he could handle the fuss it would cause. He felt isolated lately, cut off from reality, living in a world all his own that was filled with an emptiness that wouldn't fill. Couldn't be filled until Hermione woke up. And he hated the thought of all the pitying eyes that would set on him when he entered the room, which he knew would happen. Because while they only want to be there for him, they were all thinking the same thing. Poor Charlie.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie rolled his shoulders, clenched his jaw, and threw the powder into the grate. "The Burrow," he said clearly, though his voice was still hoarse. The fire roared in front of him, green and glittering, a portal to the family he had ignored for too long. Stepping in, he let it envelop him, closing his eyes against the swirling, dizzying surroundings. Stepping out a few moments later, he found himself gazing around the lounge, large comfy couches and chairs sitting unused. He could hear voices rising from the kitchen and his feet moved before his mind could turn it around on him and let him run. His heartbeat sped up, the thrumming noise loud in his ears. What would he say? What would they think? Swallowing his fears, he took the final step and found himself in the doorway of a kitchen that he'd known for nearly twenty-eight years.

The clatter of forks and the movement of glasses, plates and bowls suddenly died down and Charlie lifted his gaze from the floor to find his father staring back at him, a warm smile on his face. He forced his eyes to leave Arthur's, moving to his right to land on Bill, who was nodding at him understandingly and on down past the twins who looked pleasantly surprised, smiles slowly forming. He passed their significant others, those pitying looks he'd been expecting showing in their eyes and making his jaw clench. He found Luna staring up at him from beside Harry, a rather dreamy expression on her face, but no surprise or shock, as if he always appeared there at dinner time. Harry on the other hand looked surprised, his mouth half open and the fork of mashed potatoes halfway to his mouth hanging limply now, forgotten. Ron sat beside him with his girlfriend Parvati, and the worry that Arthur had spoken of could be seen in Ron's eyes, though his face reflected nothing. Charlie knew he was still upset, but he wasn't up to talking to his youngest brother about anything. He didn't even know what he'd say. Ginny was staring up at him, her eyes moist, and Charlie wondered how long it had been since he'd seen his little sister. Neville sat anxiously beside her, looking back and forth, as if unsure if he should comfort her or just let her be. Finally, without warning, Ginny was out of her seat and hugging him and Charlie stood still, his eyes falling to the top of her red hair. It felt like such a long time ago that he'd had any real physical comfort. Hermione had always filled that void, holding his hand, wrapping him in her embrace as they slept, hugging him randomly, always near him, but now he had nobody for that and it felt odd to be held now.

Sniffling, Ginny tightened her arms around him while Charlie's hung limply by his sides, uncertain. "You..." she said, her voice shaking, "have given me a serious scare, Charlie!" she told him, though her voice wasn't as strong as it usually was when she was angry. "Off all hours of the day, never around when I come to see you, never telling anybody where you've been," she told him, shaking her head against her chest, her hair swaying against her back. She reminded him quite a bit of their mum in that moment. "I was so..." She sighed, her arms tightening even more and he was sure that if she squeezed him any more he wouldn't be able to breathe. It was rare to see Ginny upset, she was always such a strong personality and it worried Charlie that he'd caused that fear in her. He had been selfish, he knew, running off to be alone and deal with everything on his own. He wasn't used to needing other people, relying on others when he was suffering. He'd never had to deal with anything to the extent of what he had in the last few months and he wasn't sure _how_ to ask for help. But he hadn't meant to leave his family alone to deal with the loss of both him and Hermione. Ginny's fingers curled around the back of his shirt and her shoulders shook as she held onto him, as if scared that he'd turn around and disappear again, never to be seen or heard of, and the full extent of just how much he'd scared his family hit him.

Lifting his arms, he felt them shake in the air before he slowly wrapped them around her, his hand rubbing her back. He wanted to explain it to her but wasn't sure he knew how. He couldn't put into words how much it hurt, he couldn't convey how much he needed to get away from everybody. How hard it was to know that so many people were there supporting him when his own self hatred was eating away at him, when his loneliness seemed to creep out of the shadows to swallow him whole. "I'm sorry," he said simply, the only words he could offer. In the quiet of the room, they seemed to echo, sounding so full of everything that needed to be said but wasn't. As if he'd explained it all, begged them to understand, in just those two words.

She nodded against him, her arms loosening and her body slowly moving away from his, chin lifting for her to look at him directly. Tears littered her bright brown eyes, her nose red from crying. She shook her head, "You're lucky I don't bat-bogey hex you right here," she said, her mouth turning up in a smile.

He couldn't quite smile back, but he nodded just the same. Her arms squeezed his sides once more before she pulled back entirely, wiping at her face quickly and scowling at the twins as if to stop them from teasing her. Their expressions clearly said that they'd bring it up later, but for now they wouldn't bug her, too interested in Charlie's appearance to cloud it with jabs at their youngest sibling.

Charlie saw his mum rise from her chair, tears in her eyes but not falling. She smiled at him shakily, her hands twisting her apron anxiously. "Are you hungry?" she asked, her eyes lighting up hopefully.

He shook his head and regretted the way her eyes darkened sadly. "I, uh..." He cleared his throat, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, slipping through his still damp hair. "There's a house down from the reserve," he began, his eyes going from his mum to his dad and then shifting around the table to see each of his siblings. "I bought it a few months ago, Hermione thought it'd be a good place to..." His arms shifted, crossing over his chest as if to shield him. "I've been fixing it up, renovating the rooms. There's still a lot of work to be done but Jonas has been helping me out." His eyes fell, staring at the floor, his chest clenching tightly. "Ashby will be born soon and I thought..." He sighed, his jaw clenching. "If you're not busy, I'd appreciate the... help," he finally said, the last word coming out heavily, laced with more than he was willing to say.

"Ashby," his mum repeated, her voice soft and tearful. Her hands clasped together delightedly and Charlie looked over at her, nodding shortly. "I love it," she told him, nodding, her smile so wide it lit up her whole face. "Ashby Weasley. Beautiful."

Charlie remembered Hermione's face as she told him and suddenly wanted to share that moment with his mother, tell her about the two boys names Hermione had liked, but he felt exposed enough as it was. Molly was so close, within arms reach, and he could tell that she desperately wanted to hold him. Of them all, he knew that he'd been the worst to her. She was the one who had kept pushing, kept trying to bring him out of the room and remind him that there was life beyond his guilt. And he'd hated her for that, hated that she could see how much it was hurting him, that she knew how much he was blaming himself. Yet she came back every day, with that same smile, that sincere look of warmth and motherly adoration in his eyes. She always had food and a kind word, a warm hand to squeeze his shoulder, a caring look to keep him going. He hated that she could have such hope, that she could believe in him enough not to blame him, while he felt like every day was another in which his own life drained away. But she never gave up, she stood there still, hoping, loving, supporting.

"Ashby _Molly_ Weasley," he told her, his eyes connecting with hers.

And just like that the flood of tears that had been trapped behind her eyes were let loose. Her feet were moving before he could think to hug her and she was holding him, arms wrapped tight around him, reminding him of that day he told them all in the hospital waiting room. With no anger or reprimand, she simply held him, telling him it would be okay. Just like now, as she held him strongly against her, tears streaming down her eyes as she ran her hand over his head and whispered over and over, "You will be okay." After a few moments, she calmed down, sniffling and wiping at her tears before she turned to the rest of her children. "Well?" she asked, lifting a brow. "Who's available to help Charlie with his house?" She stared at her children, as if warning them that their answers had better be what she wanted to hear.

"I'm not sure... What kind of compensation do we get for our hard work?" one of the twins asked, smirking.

"Good question, George," Fred agreed, nodding. "If you're going to have us building your castle, what are us wee paupers going to get for it?"

Charlie felt his mouth twitch with a rare smile. "I'm paying Jonas in drinks."

The twins exchanged looks, eyebrows lifting. "A sodded Jonas with a hammer, that's good enough pay for us," they exclaimed.

"Have you painted yet?" Ginny asked, her eyes sparkling. "I'd love to decorate everything!"

Charlie glanced at her, trying to imagine what his house would look like if he left it in her care entirely. He cleared his throat. "There are a few rooms that need to be painted and arranged," he admitted hesitantly.

Her mouth curled in an excited smirk. "Brilliant," she told him.

Harry cleared his throat. "I've got the weekend off, I can stop in, help with whatever you need," he offered, nodding.

"Me, too," Luna agreed, smiling dreamily. "I'll inspect the house for any infestations of _blagarf tweeds_."

Charlie stared at her a moment before saying, with a straight face, "Thanks, that was one of my bigger concerns."

Bill stifled a snort, drinking from his pumpkin juice and shaking his head at his brother.

Luna didn't seem to catch the exchange, instead going back to her salad and forking a tomato into her mouth. Harry shrugged, giving Charlie a what-can-you-do look. Despite Luna's rather odd self, Harry was obviously quite besotted with her and she seemed to share the feeling back.

"Ron?" Charlie heard his mum ask and he looked, rather uncomfortably, to his youngest brother.

Shrugging, Ron acted indifferent. "I'll see what I can do."

"Don't stress yourself," Bill muttered, rolling his eyes.

Frowning, Ron glared at his eldest brother before turning his attention to his dinner, attacking it with less vigor and more annoyance than anything.

"Great," Molly said loudly, as if trying to overwrite the interaction with her enthusiasm. "Now that that's settled, Charlie why don't you pull up a chair and have some supper," she said, motioning to one of the two seats open.

Charlie's eyes fell to Hermione's usual seat before returning to his mum as he shook his head. "Uh, I can't. I have to get back to St. Mungo's. Crookshanks needs to be fed and I..." He glanced at his father, "I have a book I need to read to Ashby, so..."

"Oh," Molly said, her expression falling slightly. "Well, all right then. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then?" she asked, her brows lifting questioningly.

"Yeah," Charlie said, nodding slowly, his eyes averted. "I'll show you around the house," he told her, looking over his shoulder. "Uh, the Floo network is connected whenever you want to come over, just call out The Den." Shifting on his feet, Charlie glanced once more at the table and nodded at his dad. "I'll see you guys later," he finally said before turning to leave. His footsteps sounded loud as the echoed behind him when he walked to the fireplace, his hands fisting and relaxing by his sides. He still felt like something was unfinished and wasn't sure what to say or do about it. Reaching out to the mantle for the floo powder, he stopped when he heard someone clear their throat. Turning around, he found Ron standing across the lounge from him, arms crossed and gaze turned away. His shoulders were slouched and his body was turned to one side, as if trying to act indifferent to Charlie. He waited, wondering what Ron had to say and hoping it wasn't going to turn into a row.

"I can come by tomorrow," Ron finally said, lifting his eyes slightly and settling on Charlie's face before turning away quickly. "I was gonna go fishing with Dean and Seamus, but I'll cancel." He shrugged, still partially frowning. "Figure my niece needs a good home and... well, if the twins are gonna be there with Jonas, not much work'll get done, so..." He shrugged again, before sighing. "I hate painting though," he admitted, looking over at Charlie as if to warn him that it was something he really wasn't willing to do.

"No painting, got it," Charlie agreed, nodding.

Ron's arms fell from his chest, hands stuffing into his pockets as he stood up a little straighter. "Should I bring my own lunch or...?"

Charlie snorted, his mouth pulling into a small smile. "Since mum'll be coming by, I'm sure she'll supply lunch. Probably from now on, really."

Ron nodded, scuffing his foot on the floor. He cleared his throat, "Okay, well..." He glanced back at the kitchen and nodded again. "Guess I'll see ya tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure," Charlie said, turning back to grab a handful of floo powder.

"Uh Charlie," he heard moments before he tossed the powder into the grate. He glanced back at Ron, his brow lifted in question. "It, uh... It wasn't your fault, eh. I don't... I don't blame you or anythin' like that. I... I guess I was just sorta..." He shrugged, sighing heavily. "I was upset about what happened and she wasn't awake for me to be mad at so I went for the next closest person. I..." He shook his head, lifting a hand to run through his hair in frustration. He lifted his chin, staring at Charlie squarely. "It wasn't your fault," he told him, before nodding his head decisively and turning to walk back into the kitchen.

Charlie stared at where his brother had previously been before swallowing thickly, "Thank you," he murmured before turning back to the grate and tossing the powder in. "St. Mungo's," he said clearly before stepping into the green flames.

That night, like every night before and after it, Charlie would make his way down the hall and up through the lift to the first floor. He would pass the waiting room where families would be sitting in uncomfortable chairs anxiously hoping for the best news possible. He'd see the same old magazines wrinkled from being held tightly or tossed around, new faces with similar expressions of aggravation and fear, and hunched figures sitting in corners while groups of people comforted each other. He'd walk down the hall, turn right and walk to the very end where a lone room was, never to be disturbed without permission from him. He'd slip through the door marked "Granger-Weasley" and find his familiar seat by her bed where he'd slump down in and lean forward, reaching his hand out to press his palm against the bump that reminded him every day that he had someone to live for, to wake up for, to eat and survive for. And he'd brush the stray curl that fell across Hermione's cheek, hold her hand tightly in his, and pray that this would be the night that she would open her eyes. He would spend awhile telling stories that always began with, "Remember that time..." and his mouth would curve with a reminiscent smile, his mind whirling with her happy face, her warm voice, her soft skin.

In the quiet of the room, he'd fill the void with promises that he hoped she could hear, about raising their daughter in a way she would be proud of if she never awoke. He'd vow to make sure that Ashby's studies were always top priority, that she learned of dragons and the Muggle world. He'd tell her that their daughter was going to grow up with all the love Charlie could give her, that she'd never doubt that her parents loved her, that she would live the best life he could provide her with. And then he'd ask her, his voice shaking with hope and desperation, "Please wake up." But when her eyes would cease to flutter, her hand not so much as twitch, her body still lay slumbering, he would nod his head as if accepting it, at least for that night, and then he'd crack the book he'd brought with him and he'd read to his daughter. "_Drew the dragon loved his drum, but his parents did not like the way it went dum de dum dum..._"

* * *

**A/N** _Just the epilogue to go. I'll try and update soon. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!_

_Thanks for reading. Please leave a review, it's greatly appreciated!  
Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	7. Epilogue: A Dragon Keeper's Forever

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_You never cease to amaze me, or make me cry. That was such a great chapter, perfect and heart-wrenching. I don't really know what to say. The relationship between all the characters and the way they interact with each other is so believable and seemingly real. The little details of the story are what make it so intriguing. While you have the power to portray emotions so well and make us feel in ways we never thought we could by simply reading, the little details about each character, about the house, about anything and everything, make it all the more intoxicating. That is exactly what this story is, it is intoxicating. You read one chapter and you want more and more. You don't want it to end because it is so great and you will miss that rush you get when you realise it has been updated. It is stories like that, that will stay with you forever. Just like this one. I really hope you can update soon, though I wish it weren't the end._" - _**CrystalizedHeart** (Mel)_ of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _ginsensu, FredWeasleyLover1126, x-Lazart-x, ebbe04, Hailz98, Lee Swain, CraZIEdUCKIE, ProperT, Blackmusasabi, reach for the stars of heaven, Galleon-to-Galleon, bethy94, Jester08, KandyFloss, wasu, suni-dilight, rachhulk, BBRuth, ultimate ron gal, **MsRisa, ssdawn, Isobel, Coquetry, Liz**_ and_ especially **mskiti** (Tabi), **CrystalizedHeart** (Mel),** Filette**,** SeanEmma4Evr **(Noelle)_ and _**galloping-goose **(Zeus)_.

**Q&A**: "_The whole thing about the book he's reading - "Drew the Dragon and his Drum" - honestly, this may sound stupid, but did you come up with that? The title seems sketchy to be a real fairytale, but it sounds so genuine and real; I'm starting to feel like it's a REAL story. If not, you're DAMN good at what you do._" - Actually, I just made it up, lol. I took the word dragon and tried to think of a name that started with "D" and then I wanted Drew the Dragon to have something that was child like, something that represented them. And I remembered when I was a kid I loved to make noise. To pretend the pots were drums. So I called it "Drew the Dragon and His Drum." I wanted a line to represent it, so I thought it over and over and finally it came out "Drew the dragon loved his drum, but his parents did not like the way it went dum de dum dum." The repetition of the "d" is what I was working for and it rang true. My parents used to go _nuts_ when I played with the pots, lol. And that's how it all came together!

-

_**Only In The World of Dragons**_

_Epilogue – A Dragon Keeper's Forever_

"Papa, is Auntie Flower still bringin' Luc to play t'day?" Ashby shouted to him from the living room. At five years old, she found it much easier to just talk loudly, even in close vicinity, rather than waiting those few _very long_ seconds of walking to wherever he was to talk to him directly.

Sighing, Charlie rolled his eyes in the kitchen. "Ashby, come here. What did I tell you about inside voices?" he asked her, shaking his head as he poured the whisked eggs into the frying pan. It was still fairly early, though Charlie had been up for a few hours already. He'd already fed their crup, Zeus, and filled Crookshank's bowl, and after making breakfast for himself and Ashby, he had to set up the backyard for the BBQ. "And it's Fleur, Ash," Charlie corrected, smiling to himself as he stirred the scrambled eggs around with the spatula.

Ashby gave a dramatic sigh as she walked into the kitchen, her feet dragging behind her. She was wearing a pale blue nightgown that reached the tops of her toes and her hair was a wild mass of red curls. She looked up at him with exasperated hazel eyes. "Yeah, but Uncle Fred told me it's just French for flower, so I dunno why I gots to call her the French name when flower's prettier," she told him, her eyes turning up at her logic before she gave a sharp nod.

"Because 'flower' isn't her name, it's the _meaning_ of her name. Her name is Fleur," he told her, shaking his head with a sigh. She frowned at him, rolling her eyes, and he snorted. "Ash, you know she prefers Fleur to flower, will you please just call her by her given name? Papa doesn't want to have to hear her complain all afternoon, all right?" he asked, walking to the fridge to pull out the cheese. He tugged the bottle of pumpkin juice and took a swig before putting it back inside, licking his lips and smiling as he closed the fridge door.

"Okay," she drew out, resting her chin on her arms as she sat at the table on her legs beneath her. "But I don't want her playin' with my hair no more or I'll call her flower again," she warned, sitting up quickly and lifting her little hands to placed them on her hips stubbornly.

Chuckling to himself, Charlie nodded. "All right, Princess, I'll remind her not to play with your hair anymore. Now why don't you go get dressed? Thought you wanted to wear your new dress that Jonas got you?" he prompted, grating the cheddar over the eggs and placing a lid over the pan. He leaned against the counter to watch her as her face changed from the irritation it had previously been showing. She was such an expressive girl, which had always been something he loved about her. It reminded him constantly of Hermione and how expressive she could be when it came to books and knowledge and defending what she believed in. She was so much her mother's daughter.

Ashby's expression lit up and she jumped up and down excitedly, clapping her hands together. "The pink one?" she asked him, her eyes glimmering happily.

"Sure," he replied, shrugging one shoulder. He had no idea what color the dress was, it seemed Jonas was always buying her something. He spoiled Ashby more than anybody and Charlie couldn't help but wonder sometimes why Jonas didn't just have children of his own. Ashby turned to run off and he called after her, "Brush your hair first, Ash, and your teeth." He remembered being a little boy and hearing the same thing from his mum and dad, which he always found infuriating, even if he had forgotten he was supposed to do it.

"I know, papa, I'm a big girl now," she replied as she hurried upstairs. Suddenly the sound stopped and then her feet were returning his way and Charlie looked over at the door with a furrowed brow. She came running back in, slightly out of breath with an inquisitive expression on her face. "Can I wake mummy up?" she asked hopefully.

Charlie pulled the lid from the pan and glanced over at her with a frown. "We talked about this, Ashby," he said, sighing.

"But she'll want to come to the barbecue too," she said, her voice coming out rather whiny.

Charlie sighed, "She needs her sleep, Princess," he told her, feeling a distinct pain in his chest. He hated those words, the memories still felt fresh.

"She's _always_ sleepin'," she told him, her lower lip shaking as she slumped closer to the ground, ready to throw a tantrum.

Noticing the signs, Charlie's brows rose high and he shook his head quickly. "Don't even think of it," he warned, waving the spatula at her, his attention turning off as a gob of scrambled eggs landed with a plop on the floor. Ashby giggled, covering her mouth with her hands and staring up at him with amused green-brown eyes, so familiar. "Yeh think that's funny?" he asked with a grin. She nodded, smiling with large eyes staring up at him. Pushing the pan off the burner, he tossed the spatula on the counter and walked toward her. "Come here, let papa teach you a lesson about laughing at him," he said, leaning forward.

Giving an excited shriek, Ashby turned and took off out of the kitchen, Charlie following after her. He kept a leisurely pace, careful not to catch her too quickly, laughing and making growling noises as she hurried up the stairs, forgetting to use the banister with her hand as she'd been told numerous times to, her little feet carrying her up fairly quickly. She held onto her nightgown, worried about it tripping her as she ran. He heard her happy laughter echoing down the halls as she ran past her room and the study, heading straight for his bedroom. Charlie's eyes widened and he shook his head, "Ash, no," he told her, but it was too late, she'd already run in.

Sighing, Charlie walked to his room and pushed the door open carefully, finding the familiar curves of Hermione laying fast asleep in their bed. She was on her left side, per usual, the blankets sitting high up on her shoulder while she lay facing away from him, toward the wall. He felt the usual thump in his chest that he always did when he walked into the room to see her slumbering peacefully and quietly called out for Ashby to come out. He rubbed the back of his neck, tip toeing across the hardwood floors, thinking she was either beneath the bed or in the closet.

With a loud whoop, she popped out from beneath the bed and shouted, "I win, papa, you didn't find me!"

Reaching out, Charlie picked her up from the floor quickly, "Shh," he whispered, motioning with his forefinger. "What'd I tell you about letting mum sleep?" he asked her.

Ashby slumped against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "You said she needed lotsa sleep so she can be real awake later," she replied, her voice sounding defeated and rather upset.

"Ash," he said quietly, rubbing her back as she sat in his arms, "You know I'm here for you, Princess. When you want to play or talk or anything. You've always got me."

"I know," she said quietly. "But I want mummy, too."

"She won't be sleeping much longer," he assured, holding her back and grinning at her. "So what about that dress then, huh? Jonas would be pretty sad if you didn't wear it."

Slowly a smile began to bloom. "D'ya think Jonas'll let me play with the baby dragons again?"

Charlie's face pale slightly. "Not after last time, he won't," he murmured. She was just as disciplined as her papa, always playing with fire. Charlie had left her with Jonas for just an hour and when she was returned to him she had little burn holes all over her clothes from playing with the new hatchlings a few weeks back. After that, Charlie knew it was best _not_ to leave Jonas to babysit, especially at the camp. Ashby spent most of her mornings and afternoons with her grandma Molly, but Charlie had a few days off so he was throwing a barbecue and invited the family and a few close friends. It was also to congratulate Jonas on becoming an administrator for the reserve, making him Charlie's new boss, which was amusing to think of really. Jonas wasn't really the boss type, but he wasn't planning on leaving the reserve any time soon and he loved the dragons enough to keep the camp working in top shape. Having Ashby at home, Charlie had changed his schedule around so that he worked from early morning to mid-afternoon, starting at seven and going until four. He flooed Ashby over to his mum's and then went in to work and when he came home, Ashby was usually already there waiting. It had been working out well, though for the last few months Ashby had been staying home more rather than going to her grandma's.

"Oh, but I promiseded I wouldn't let them outta their cages again," she whined, looking up at him sadly.

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. "Don't give me that look, I'm not buying it." He put her down on the floor and opened the door a bit wider. "Go on and get ready, I'll serve you up some eggs soon. I'm sure Luc and the others will be here soon."

Grinning, Ashby nodded her head and took off running down the hall again.

Charlie nudged the door closed and sighed, walking closer to the bed, his eyes settling apprehensively on the sleeping woman on top of it. Sliding onto the cool blanket, he laid down on his side, putting his arm around her and dragging her back until she was laying pressed against his chest. Letting out a soft sigh, he buried his face in her curly locks and nuzzled her neck with his nose. She smelled faintly of coconut shampoo and berry lotion. "You can stop pretending you're sleeping," he murmured, rolling his eyes.

"It's just so boring," Hermione replied, her voice full of exasperation. "I don't see why I need to sleep so much anyway."

Stroking her stomach, he felt the thrum of a kick against his palm. "The Ob Healer said you were doing too much and it wasn't good for the baby," he reminded, smirking.

"Doing too much? Please!" she cried, shaking her head as she moved to sit up. "I've hardly been doing much of anything. So I cleaned a little, and maybe I rearranged the furniture, and all right, I admit I re-alphabetized every book in the house, but they were out of order," she told him, throwing her arms up. "And you try watching over Ashby all afternoon and then tell me that it isn't hard keeping up with her. Especially when I'm so _huge_!" she told him, her hands falling to rest on her round stomach. "Why did I say I thought it'd be so great to be completely awake for the whole thing again," she wondered, rolling her eyes.

Charlie laughed, "Beats me. Your mood swings for the last few months with Ashby were hard to handle, I can barely keep up these days."

Hermione glared at him, her mouth setting in a hard frown. "I'll thank you to shut up, Charlie Weasley, this is all your fault!"

"My fault?" he asked, chuckling, his eyes lit with amusement. "If I remember correctly, Hermione Weasley, it was _your_ doing that got you pregnant." He nodded, crossing his arms beneath his head. "You thought Ashby needed a sibling, she was all alone and you always hated being an only child. You were jumping me everywhere," he reminded, smirking devilishly. "Remember mum's garden party last year? In the shed out back? Or at Bill's Christmas bash, in the bathroom? Or even Harry and Luna's wedding reception, in--"

"All right, all right, I get it," she replied, rolling her eyes. "You wanted it just as bad. I wasn't alone, you know!"

"Have you ever known me to pass up on a chance at ravaging you?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow.

Snorting, Hermione tried not to smile at him. "The point is I'm tired of being, well, tired!" she told him, shaking her head. "I don't_ want _to be pregnant anymore. My back hurts, I can't find my feet, I have to pee _all the time_, I can't sleep at night but I nap away the days, I can't see my dragons, and I can't stop thinking about whether we need more food or not!" she told him, her eyes filling with tears.

Reaching out, Charlie rubbed her back soothingly. "There's only six weeks to go, love, you'll be okay," he told her softly. Hermione smiled at him, sniffling. Charlie grinned. "And your feet are right where you left them." Snickering, Hermione glared at him. Laughing, he shrugged. "Are you gonna rest a little more? Before the guests arrive?"

Sighing, she nodded, falling back to lay on the bed once more. She gave a long yawn, "Hold me a little bit?" she asked faintly, her eyes already fluttering.

Instead of replying, he moved up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, his hand settling on the wide expanse of her stomach. "For twins, you're not _that_ big," he told her, his thumb swiping back and forth.

Hermione snorted, her hand slipping across his, fingers entwining. "So you're saying _I am_ big?" she asked moodily.

"Would you like me to lie?" he asked, leaning forward to kiss her shoulder.

She was quiet for a moment, letting out just a small sigh of mild irritation. "S'all your fault, Charlie," she murmured tiredly.

"I'd gladly do it again," he replied, grinning.

Hermione made a muffled annoyed noise. "Not unless you plan on carrying the next one," she muttered, leaning back into him and settling more comfortably on the bed.

"Not possible, love."

"Not _probable_," she warned, squeezing his hand lightly. "Anything is possible."

Charlie leaned up on his elbow, looking down at her as she drifted off to sleep. He reached over to gently move a tendril of her hair from her cheek, his finger stroking her soft skin slowly. She murmured something he couldn't make out, though he was pretty sure she said something about 'gnomes'. He remembered a time when he thought this moment wouldn't be possible, when he thought he would never have her in their house, awake and herself again. He remembered when he didn't think it would be possible for her to meet Ashby or to have more children with him, when he didn't believe the future they wanted would come true. But he got the miracle he had wished for every day he spent in that hospital next for her and he thanked the Gods for giving it to him. It still worried him, five years later, whenever she fell into a fitful sleep. He had a deep seeded fear that somehow she'd fall back into that coma and it wouldn't reverse this time, but it had yet to happen. He'd seen her sleeping every single day since she woke up and still he worried that she might not open her insightful brown eyes and look back up at him. She was used to it now, knew that his fear wasn't going away, and simply said, every time, "I'm here, Charlie. I'm not going anywhere." But the worry remained and the relief still felt heavy each time she awoke.

He'd never forget though, not the pain and fear that led up to her revival, or the knee weakening relief he'd been swamped with when she looked at him for the first time in so many months. He dreamt of it sometimes, his mind replaying one of the best moments of his life. The two others being Ashby's birth and the day the Healer told him and Hermione they were having twin boys. It could have all been so different had she not woken up and he couldn't help but think that some days. He didn't want to consider how different both his and Ashby's life would be had Hermione not woken up, ever. He didn't think he could have made it through that loss without losing a big part of himself. He was happy every day that Ashby got the chance to live her life with her mum right there with her, having no idea what she could have lost. What they almost lost.

_Charlie's days passed slow and dragging, the house becoming more and more complete as they went. Within the month, the house had transformed into something he could truly call home. There were a few touch ups here or there, a little more furniture needed, family pictures needing to be put up and the noise of a family living in it waiting to echo through the halls, but it was ready. His brothers and sister, mum and dad, friends and family had helped him create a place to raise his daughter. Ashby's room was ready and waiting for her, the walls awash in color, the furniture unique and comfortable. His and Hermione's room was airy and open, a place that always left him feeling as if she was there with him already. He hadn't yet managed to use the bed, spending his nights in her hospital room still, but he'd gone down to their tents and packed up all of their belongings, bringing them over to the house and filling the dresser and closet. The camp administrators offered their sympathies over Hermione and promised him that whenever he wanted to return to work, his job was waiting for him. He'd put in a lot of time and work with them and they didn't want to lose him. While he hadn't been able to promise he'd return soon, he knew that he would one day. He and Hermione had always said that dragons and keeping them was something that meant the world to them. While he hated that it had caused her disposition, he also knew that she would be disappointed if he gave it all up. He knew that the dragon that had harmed her had been sent back to the Ukrainians and was later told that it had been put down because it was too hard to control. He wasn't sure how to feel about it and so he didn't think about it much._

_With Hermione six months pregnant, Charlie was seeing the Ob Healer more frequently, trying to find out if there were any complications with Ashby due to Hermione's condition. He was happy to learn that she seemed to be doing fine, growing well and no problems looked to be coming. So much time had passed and it bothered him that Hermione wasn't awake to enjoy each stage as it happened. Could she feel it when Ashby kicked? Did she have any idea how much time had passed? He wondered, so often, how she felt while she was sleeping. Did it hurt at all? Her burns were completely healed now, due to various potions and balms. The gouge in her arm was gone, though a white puckered scar sat against her skin, the size of a galleon. The scrape across her cheek was a distant memory and now the only visible dilemma was that of her coma. The healers had no reason to believe she'd sleep forever, though they didn't have any reason she would wake up soon either. They couldn't give him any real answer and though Charlie contacted other healers, he always received the same answer, there was nothing more they could do. And so he waited and waited and waited..._

_It was a night like any other, shortly before dinner when Charlie sat holding Hermione's hand, telling her another one of those, 'Remember when...' moments, his fingers massaging her palm and forearm. His eyes swept over her slumbering form, knowing every inch of her by memory. He missed the mornings when he'd wake up to find her fingers threading through his hair, her eyes half closed as she cuddled up to him, soft and warm against his chest. He knew that in a few short months Ashby would have to be taken home and his nights would need to be spent there instead of with Hermione. It scared him to think of a time when he wouldn't be there with her, of the day when he'd realize he hadn't seen her for days, weeks, maybe even months. He didn't want her to become a distant memory. He didn't want her to become a person he felt obligated to see. He hated that their dreams had shattered with the force of a dragon on the rampage. He hated that every day that passed, he felt her slipping farther and farther away from him while he reached out blindly, trying to hold on._

_Leaning forward, Charlie rested his chin on the bed in front of her stomach, there were fewer and fewer inches between her expanding belly and the edge of bed. He trailed his fingertips over her large abdomen, creating random patterns as he spoke softly, "I don't know if I told you enough just how much I love you. I wonder about that, every day that I'm working on the house." His brow furrowed as he frowned, "I ask myself if you knew... If I said it enough... And I don't think I did. I don't think that I expressed it enough or made sure that you knew just how much I really meant it. I..." He clenched his jaw, his eyes falling as he shook his head slightly. "I thought you knew, I thought you'd just know that I felt it, that it was only ever you. But now... now I feel like it was never enough, that I never held you long enough and I never kissed you as much as I could have. Like I wasted so much time not loving you as much as I could. And... And it-- it hurts knowing that I might never be able to tell you again and have you... have you smile at me like you always do. Have you hug me like it's the first time you've ever heard it, like you might never hear it again and you want to savor that moment." He swallowed, his eyes glazing with tears. He lifted her hand, holding it to his face, pressing a kiss to her palm and holding it there for a moment, eyes closed and chin quivering. He sighed, keeping her hand loosely against his cheek. He let out a shuddering laugh, squeezing his eyes tightly. "I thought... I thought I'd have you forever and... and..." He head fell a notch, defeat pulling his shoulders down. "Who knew forever was so short?" he whispered sadly._

_Charlie felt a twitch against his hand, as if her finger tapped his cheek. He felt his heart leap but told himself not to get his hopes up. He waited, his breath held, and then he felt it again. Her thumb brushed his face, soft and slow and he forced the breath out, before letting his eyes open but focusing them on the bed a moment. Four months of waiting and he wasn't sure if he could take the disappointment of her not waking up now. Slowly, he let his eyes travel up the bed, taking in the crisp sheets that they changed daily, up the pillow past her curling hair that had grown a couple inches. He stared at her mouth, the soft lips still and open slightly, before traveling up her cheek, a light rosy blush kissing them. He paused just before her eyes, clenching his jaw. Swallowing tightly, he lifted his gaze until he was staring into the sweetest brown eyes he'd ever seen in his life. She looked tired still, her eyes half lidded, but still open. He let out a shuddering gasp, blinking quickly, terrified that he was dreaming. Her mouth lifted ever so slightly, a faint smile staring out at him._

"_Either I've put on a lot of weight within the last few hours, or it's been longer than I thought," she breathed, her voice hoarse and quiet._

_He laughed, strangled and choked, tears filling his eyes. His eyes fell shut as he shook his head, shoulders slumping and head falling forward to lean on the bed. His back shook as the fears of so long slipped from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks and wetting the sheet beneath her. Her fingers threaded through his hair, slow and soft, tugging lightly at the back. "Shh..." she whispered soothingly. Charlie shook his head, not sure what to say or do, happiness and relief flooding him so quickly all he could do was breathe shakily and cry. "Come here," she told him, her voice a faint whisper in his ears. She moved back across the bed, careful and stilted in her movements. He rose on shaky legs, managing to lie down beside her, his body forming around her stomach. He rested his head below hers, gazing up into her eyes while his hand cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her face. "Hi," she breathed, her eyes soft with adoration._

"_Hey," he choked out before shaking his head. "Don't ever... I didn't know what to... I couldn't..." He clenched his jaw a moment before leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers desperately. She returned his kiss gently, her mouth cupping his warmly, eyes falling shut while his stared at her in wonder, scared that if he closed them now she'd disappear. Her hand stroked his hair and rubbed his back, as if soothing away the pain of a child. He broke away from the kiss slowly, gulping in air and wrapping his arm around her side and up her back, fingers clinging to the hospital gown she wore. "I missed you," he told her, though his voice shook so much he wasn't sure it was intelligible. But she nodded anyway, her mouth turning up in a light smile and her eyes meeting his with understanding._

"_I'm here," she told him softly. He stared at her, not entirely certain. "I'm here," she repeated a little stronger. "I'm not going anywhere, Charlie."_

"_Promise?" he asked, feeling like a little boy who put too much stock in something that couldn't really be controlled._

"_I promise," she whispered nodding._

_Charlie's shoulder relaxed and he leaned forward pressing a chaste kiss against her lips before trailing down her chin and across her neck, burying his face against her chest. He held her tightly, his eyes pressed against her gown, letting it soak up the tears that had hardly been released, building and trapped inside. She bowed her head, whispering soft words to him, her fingers slipping through his hair, nails lightly grazing his skin. He heard voices in the distance, familiar and loud, but he never moved. He continued to hold onto her, his face buried against the body he'd missed so much, clutching at her, letting himself cry for what he almost lost, what he hadn't had for so long, what he had back. And then the voices stopped and he knew his family was standing just outside the room, seeing what seemed to be a miracle. He heard something crash to the floor and assumed his mum brought him dinner again but lost hold of it when she realized Hermione was no longer fast asleep._

"_Told you so," the twins chorused, though their voices were a little more shaky than usual._

"_And sleeping beauty awakens," Bill announced cheekily._

"_Wha?" Ron asked, confused._

"_It's a Muggle reference to a classic children's fairytale," Hermione told him, her voice still choked up from so little use._

"_Oh," Ron said, still sounding rather flummoxed._

"_I'll explain later," Harry told him before returning his attention to Hermione. "How d'you feel?"_

"_Tired," she admitted softly, her hands never stilling against Charlie._

"_Bloody hell, 'Mione, you've been sleeping forever," Ron whined exasperated._

"_Watch your language," Molly chastised before her voice softened, "How are you dear? Any pain? Are you hungry? Should I get a Healer? Are you warm enough? Comfortable?"_

"_Take a breath, mum," Bill told her, sounding rather amused. "Why don't we let her and Charlie have a moment?" he suggested. "As long as the princess promises not to fall asleep on us, we can all come back in a little while, yeah?"_

"_No sleeping, got it," Hermione agreed._

_After much scuffling and whining, the door finally shut, leaving Hermione alone with Charlie once more. She was silent for a moment and if she wasn't still stroking his hair, he would have thought she'd fallen asleep. A few moments later, after Charlie's body calmed down enough so that he was simply resting next to her, running his hand up and down her back, she spoke. "Are you okay?" she wondered worriedly._

_He nodded slowly. "It's been a long time," he told her, shaking his head slowly. "I was beginning to think you might not..." He trailed off, his jaw clenching tightly against it. He took a shaky breath, "Talk to me?" he asked._

"_About what?" she wondered._

"_Anything. I just... I just want to hear your voice for awhile," he admitted, shrugging slightly._

"_D'you know the story of Sleeping Beauty?" she queried, glancing down at him. He shook his head. "All right, well, it involves a princess, fairy godmothers, and an overlooked wicked fairy, it would seem quite farfetched were I not a witch actually. But anyway..."_

_Charlie closed his eyes, listening to her heartbeat against his ear as her voice slowly gained more strength and soothed him. They had a lot to talk about, so many things to figure out, and she probably had a million questions, but that could wait. For now, he wanted to bask in the moment, to enjoy the sound of her voice that he had missed so much in the last four months, to absorb the feel of her skin once more. He didn't want to let her go, didn't want to think about what would have happened had she not woken up. She was in the middle of the sentence when he interrupted her. "I love you," he said, his voice muffled against her chest._

_She paused, "I know you do," she told him, her voice holding such conviction, as if she was trying to assure him that she never doubted it. Her hand tugging his hair like she always did when she was happy, "I love you, too, Charlie." A moment later she was saying, "You know in the Muggle film of Sleeping Beauty, the evil sorceress ends up turning into a dragon and completely gives them a bad name. No wonder Muggles will never understand dragons, they have a fear set in from childhood that they're evil creatures out to burn and eat them," she told him, sounding completely miffed. He grinned against her chest. He really missed her. But she was back now, he assured himself, and she wasn't going anywhere. He let out a shaky breath, his head resting easier against the pillow, eyes drooping. It had been so long since he'd slept a full night, since he'd felt comfortable where he was, since he was relaxed and happy. "Go to sleep," she murmured, her fingers grazing his cheek, soft and tender._

"_Don' wanna," he slurred, his eyes fluttering. "S'been so long."_

"_I'll be right here when you wake up," she told him, her thumb smoothing over his eyes, closing them. "You're stuck with me forever," she whispered against his forehead, her warm breath skittering across his skin._

"_Forever," he repeated, his mouth curving as he slipped away into sleep. It was okay now. Everything would be okay._

"_Charlie?" he heard her voice faintly._

"_Hm?" he managed back._

"_D'you know where my sugarless candies are?" she wondered hopefully._

_He chuckled. "Top drawer of the stand," he muttered. _

_She shifted, reaching over him and searching through the drawer before letting out a tiny noise of glee, finding her treasured candies. "Thanks, love."_

"_Mm," he replied, moving himself around to get more comfortable, feeling her stomach press against his. He heard Hermione sigh in content as she tossed a candy in her mouth and a moment later he felt Ashby kick._

"_Oh," Hermione said in awe._

_Charlie grinned. He had his whole family now, complete and perfect._

"I'm ready!" Ashby sing-songed down the hall. "Come on, papa, the eggs are gettin' cold!" she whined.

Smiling to himself, Charlie carefully extracted his body from around Hermione's and padded softly across the floor, closing the door behind him. On his way down the hall, he hauled Ashby up into his arms, enjoying the shriek of laughter she gave, and made his way downstairs, his eyes momentarily caught up in the pictures on the wall. Five years of a life that he had at one time worried he'd never had splayed out before him. Photos of Ashby when she was just a tiny baby, barely large enough to fill his arms. Of her screaming, crying, smiling, laughing, shaking her fist at him, rolling, walking, falling, dancing, and everything else. A black frame sat in the center, a wedding picture taken three and a half years prior. Charlie grinned at it as he half-listened to Ashby babble on about how much fun her and Luc were going to have. Instead of the usual, posed picture, Charlie and Hermione were standing in front of one of the dragon keeps, a burst of flame spewing out behind them from Sal. They stood tall, grinning at the camera, Hermione dressed in white lace and satin and Charlie wearing a loose tuxedo, his tie hanging undone and his shirt sitting comfortably outside of his pants while his coat hung unbuttoned. He would lean her back, dipping her over, her leg lifting into the air and her soft curly hair dangling in the air attractively as she grinned up at him adoringly, and then he'd lift her back up to meet his lips for a long, drawn out kiss. The fire would light up their frames, flickering a golden red, hot and hypnotizing. The wedding had been set up behind their house, a small but perfect affair. As he used a heating charm on the eggs and set Ashby up with hers at the table, he ventured out to sit on the swinging chair on the porch, his mind wandering.

_Just a little over a year after Ashby's birth and Charlie was finally putting the finishing touches on his and Hermione's relationship. His mum had been going mental setting up tables and chairs, flowers and food, for the ceremony that was set to start in just a little while. Charlie was currently sitting on the porch, his legs propped up on the railing in front of him as his eyes sat shut and the distant noise of his family and friends echoed in his ears. Ashby was laying quietly in his arms, half asleep and happily sucking on a bottle of formula as her hands curled and uncurled in his white shirt. Her legs squirmed around once in a while and she gave a soft sigh of comfort while he smiled to himself. _

_She was getting bigger each day and he thought, with obvious fatherly adoration, that she was the prettiest baby girl to ever live. Her head was covered in soft auburn curls and her eyes were a familiar brown. She had her two tiny front teeth and her molars growing in now, making her rather fussy if she didn't have something to chew on when she was wide awake. Jonas' idea was to rub them with rum but Hermione smacked him seconds after it exited his mouth, so that was a never-gonna-happen, and instead she used cold teething rings that Hermione bought out of Muggle stores. She also liked it when her parents rubbed her gums with their fingers but since they couldn't do it all the time, she usually used rubber, water-filled teething toys. Other than her teething cries, she was a rather happy baby. She had her fits from time to time, but she mostly giggled and rolled around, much to her parents delight. She already learned to say 'mama' and 'papa' and very much to the amusement of everyone, 'donus,' which they were sure meant Jonas. She knew her own name and usually listened to small instructions, depending on her mood. She was growing up quickly._

_Charlie felt her squirm against him and opened his head, tipping his chin to see her looking up at him with wide, brown eyes. She lifted her arm, her little hands reaching for him and he lifted her a little higher so she was leaning against his shoulder. When close enough, she simply pressed her fingers to his face, tugging on his lips and poking his cheek. He smiled at her, amused, and she smiled back around her bottle, shaking her head from side to side. Her first birthday had passed a few months prior and she'd been spoiled rotten. Her pale green dress was twisted around her, looking rather uncomfortable from all her squirming, and he wasn't surprised to see it was the one Jonas had bought her especially for her birthday. Despite the fact that the guy was more interested in dragons than children, he had taken a great liking for Ashby and was designated as her favorite person outside of her parents. Overall though, she was her papa's princess._

_He could hear his mum inside the kitchen, exclaiming that there was only a few more minutes until the wedding would start and Charlie sat comfortably in the swing, letting everybody else deal with the preparations. He would have married her in a tree if it would make her happy, he just wanted the privilege of calling her his wife. Ashby's mouth disconnected from her bottle with a soft 'pop' noise and she turned her head up to look at him. "Dew dum," she said, her voice rather demanding._

_Chuckling, Charlie let his legs fall from the railing and stood up from the swing. He'd left the Drew and his Drum book up in the bedroom. Walking through the house, he overheard Ginny, Luna, and Parvati talking in the living room, all exclaiming to their other halves how beautiful Hermione looked. Looking over at them, he could see Ron tugging at his collar as Parvati stared at him searchingly and Luna leaning against Harry happily, her engagement ring winking out from her hand against his chest. He could make out Ginny reminiscing with Neville about their own nuptials and judging by the expression on the young man's face, he was still just as in love with Ginny as he was they day they married. Given that all the women seemed to be downstairs, Charlie slipped up to the second floor, certain that Hermione would be all alone in their bedroom. He glanced behind him to make sure nobody else was nearby as he turned the handle and snuck into his room._

_For a moment, he admired her as she sat on their bed, legs crossed and laid out over the expanse of their bed. She was holding a book in her hand, one of Ashby's and he smiled to himself when he realized it was the one he'd come up for. Her dress was long, made of pleated white silk. He remembered how excited she had been when she seen it, exclaiming that it was perfect. "It has a dropped waist, Charlie! And look at the beaded motifs, they're... they're so... elegant!" she told him, her eyes sparkling joyously. It was strapless, showing off her tanned and toned shoulders and arms. The top of the dress hugged her curves and he was forced to remind himself that there was only a few minutes until the wedding so he really had no time to enjoy the task of exploring those curves just yet. Her bare feet peeked out from beneath the dress, tapping to a beat only she could hear. Her eyes were reading the book meticulously as he watched her from his position leaned against the closed door. When he saw her jaw move from side to side and her lips pucker momentarily he knew she was sucking on her addictive sugarless candies._

"_Dew dum!" Ashby exclaimed again, this time much more impatiently._

_Hermione's attention to the book was drawn away and she looked up at Charlie and Ashby standing in the room, a surprised expression crossing her face. As she lifted her head, the curls of her dark hair bounced around her shoulders, shimmering in the sun that slipped through the open window. His breath momentarily caught in his throat, she was even more beautiful than just a few hours earlier, a feat he didn't think possible. She smiled up at him, her perfect white teeth making his stomach twist excitedly. "You know you're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding, it's bad luck," she told him as she rose from the bed and padded across to them, the train of her gown long enough so that it was still laying on top of the bed._

_Charlie shrugged. "It was your own fault. You shouldn't have kept Ashby's book up here, you knew I'd have to come looking for it eventually," he said cheekily._

_Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. "Yes, it was all a ploy. I purposely kept the book so that I could lure you up here," she said, thinning her eyes and smirking at him as she stepped closer. "Now what will I do with you?" she asked him, her voice soft and seductive. Before he could respond, she took Ashby out of his arms. "Nah, I'd much rather spend it with you," she said to the little girl, leaning in to brush her nose over her daughters._

_Giggling, Ashby kicked her legs in the air and reached out for her mum, fingers wiggling to try and grab on to part of her._

_Bringing her closer, Hermione hugged her to her side, cooing quietly over how beautiful she was in her dress. Charlie admired them from his place a few feet away, a small smile gracing his face. Hermione eventually sat back down on the bed, moving back until she was sitting where she had been, her back against the headboard and her dress splayed out across the mattress. Ashby began calling for the book again and Hermione brought it out, but instead of reading it, looked up at Charlie, beckoning him over. Crossing the room, he carefully crawled over her dress and settled in close to them, Ashby held comfortably in Hermione's arm between them. They held the book in front of her, their heads leaning together above Ashby's, and Charlie began to read the book he'd read a thousand times before. "Drew the dragon loved his drum, but his parents did not like the way it went dum de dum dum..."_

_Not long after Molly would knock on the door and chastise him for breaking tradition by seeing Hermione before the wedding and he'd be pushed out of the room, a sleeping Ashby in his arms. He made his way downstairs without a care in the world to find his brothers all hanging around the kitchen, trying not to eat the delicious food sitting on platters around them. Jonas was sitting up on one of the counters, telling a story to Fred and George, before his attention was caught by Ashby and he grinned happily._

"_There's my lil' dragon keeper," he said, hopping down and walking over to take the sleeping girl out of her father's arms. "Don't tell me yeh tuckered her out, I was gonna show her 'round the reserve t'day. Introduce her teh a couple dragons, enjoy all the young keepers tha' fawn over me an' the little tyke as if I'm the lucky bastard who fathered her," he told him, smirking._

_Charlie rolled his eyes. "Not sure Crystal would appreciate that one."_

_Jonas grinned, "I dunno. She's a very understanding woman. She may even consider joining if--"_

"_Donus!" Ashby suddenly cried, very much awake, seconds before Charlie would have._

_Chuckling, Jonas lifted her high up in the air and twirled her around. "Is that the dress I got you?" he wondered, bringing her back down so he could settle her comfortably in the crook of his arm. She giggled and kicked her legs around happily._

"_Mum kick you out of your bedroom then?" Bill asked, popping a cracker covered in something tasty into his mouth._

_Charlie nodded, leaning back against the counter. "She's getting pretty excited, eh?"_

_Bill snorted. "You kidding? She's been planning this from the moment you started liking girls." He grinned, throwing an arm around Charlie's shoulder. "You remember your first girlfriend, don't you?"_

_Groaning, Charlie shook his head. "Don't remind me."_

_Laughing, Bill shook his head. He opened his mouth, likely about to remind him of something embarrassing and memorable but their mother rushed into the kitchen then, clapping her hands. "All right, take your places. Come on then, boys. The guests are all seated and you need to get up to the front of the altar," she said, motioning to Charlie, Bill, and Jonas. She turned then, waving her wand at the platters of food that Ron was quickly trying to grab numerous items off of. They disappeared in a flash and Charlie knew they were now sitting out on the lavishly set up tables beneath a tent set up in the backyard._

_Everybody began emptying out of the kitchen and Charlie stood up straight when his mum made a bee-line for him, her eyes watery and her arms out. "Oh, Charlie-bear!" she exclaimed tearfully._

_Bill laughed at him and left the kitchen, grinning._

_Patting his mum's back, he waited for her to calm down._

"_I- I'm just so h-happy for you," she told him, hiccuping. She leaned back, wiping at her face and then straightening out his tie and buttoning his coat. "This is just the beginning, you know," she said, her voice much softer now. "And this is one of those journey's I've told you about, Charlie. There will be slips and falls and fighting. There will be moments where life isn't the best to either of you, but you will always, **always** have each other. And you remember that, sweetheart. You remember that no matter what this world throws at you, no matter what happens in either of your lives, you will have one another to lean on. If you remember that, cherish it, than you two will have a wonderful marriage. All you need is love, Charlie. Everything else comes with it. The whole future laid out there for you to take and you have to take it!" she told him, staring up at him with wide eyes. "You have to reach out and wrap your arms around it and don't you ever let it go. Because when you find it and I know you have, then it's forever." She shook her head, smoothing her hands over his shoulders. "You are going to have a beautiful marriage, my sweet boy. You're going to have a family of your own, to love and protect and I know that you will do it to the best of your abilities. Because that's who you are, Charles Weasley. You are just as I raised you to be, just as I always hoped you'd be. I've never been prouder of you than I am right here, right now. Because I know now that whether I'm here or not, you will always be a man to be proud of." Sniffling, she wiped away a stray tear from her cheek and nodded at him. "Now go on, your bride is waiting."_

_Speechless, Charlie simply stared at her a moment before she waved him off and he did as he was told. He took his place at the front of the altar to stand next to Bill and Jonas who were discussing which appetizer they were going to seek out when the ceremony was over. A faint tune played in the background as Ginny, Crystal, and Tanya walked down the aisle in their floor length, clover green bridesmaid gowns that perfectly matched Ashby's dress as she sat in Ginny's arms, holding her aunt's flowers for her and waving them around at everyone while she sucked on her fingers and giggled happily. The bridesmaids moved to stand to the right, lining up and turning to stare at the arch made of vines and exotic flowers. White rose petals led a path up to the front of the man-made altar and standing at the beginning was Hermione, her arm wrapped around Arthur's as she looked up at him, talking quietly to themselves._

_They stepped forward, Hermione now swathed in a sheer veil that fell over her face and down her back, reaching to her waist. A small ring of pearls sat atop her hair, holding the veil in place. A four-rowed, speckled brown beaded necklace ran around her throat, and he remembered Hermione telling him that they reminded her exactly of how Keleman's eggshell looked before he hatched. Her ears were adorned with matching earrings and her face was lightly done up in makeup. She was as exquisite as always and he felt the familiar thrum of his heart against his chest, speeding up as he took her in. Soon she was in front of him, Arthur giving her hand to his and he smiled at her, a grin lighting up his whole face. She passed her long bouquet of lilies and roses to Luna behind her and turned back to him, her hands clasping his tightly._

_Charlie heard the Ministry official beside him talking to the crowd about love and honor, trust and loyalty, but he didn't pay him much attention. His eyes were settled solely on Hermione, who was smiling up at him warmly. His mind wandered to when they were a few years younger and she had been her bossy self, forcing him into letting her help him with his injury. She still stayed up with him some nights when it began acting up again, soothing away the pain in his calf and never once making him feel as if he were less of a man because of it. She was just there, always there, and he couldn't ask for anything more. She was a constant in his life, the one person he knew would never really change and was thankful for it. She'd always be morally bothered my people who thought little of dragons and the people that kept them, she'd forever be addicted to the sugarless candies she seemed to have with her always, she'd never lose her affectionate nature, be it with him, their daughter, or the hatchlings at the reserve. He stood strong on the fact that he was the luckiest bloke alive. He had the perfect baby daughter and the most incredible soon-to-be-wife he could ever ask for. He had promised himself he wasn't going to do anything completely sappy like cry, but he was pretty sure he was going to break his own rule. He figured he could forgive himself for it though. After all, she was giving him their forever._

Shaking off his memories, Charlie rose from the swing and made his way back inside. He could hear Zeus barking in the kitchen and wasn't surprised to find Ashby making him do tricks for some of her eggs. Resembling a Muggle Jack Russell terrier, aside from the forked tail, their four year old crup was the most playful animal alive. He adored Ashby and took a great liking to Crookshanks, though the half-kneazle feigned indifference for him. "Ash, you know Zeus isn't allowed to be fed at the table," he reminded, looking through the drawer near the stove for his favorite apron, exclaiming in large, scaly green print, "Kiss the Keeper." There was a picnic table already set up that fit four comfortably, so he had to magic it larger and clean the barbecue. Hermione had mentioned the garden needed de-gnoming and he knew his mum would remark on it if he didn't get it done before they arrived. "You done eating, Princess?" he called out after tossing his apron over his shoulder.

"Yup," she exclaimed, leaning up on tip toes to put her dish in the sink. "Are we gonna set up now, papa? They'll be here soon, right?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, go get your shoes on and you can help me out back," he told her, whistling to call Zeus over to him. Running over excitedly, the crup hopped up at Charlie's legs and waved its forked tail with enthusiasm. Charlie ushered him out the back door and pulled his wand from the back of his jeans. He decided to do the easier things first and when Ashby hurried up beside him, he hauled her up to sit on his shoulder. She wrapped her hand around his to help him motion it around while he elongated the picnic table, charmed the lawnmower to fix up the lawn, and cast a cleaning charm on the BBQ. After pleading with him for five minutes to let her play with the child's broom Bill had got her for her birthday, Ashby finally submitted to just playing around with Zeus while Charlie fixed up the garden. He could hear her giggling as he searched the garden for telling holes. He was glad he had only wore his undershirt, leaving his arms bare and his back free of restricting material. He could see the tattoo on his upper bicep of Ashby's name on a small banner wrapped around a drum, the drumsticks moving to an soundless beat. Beneath his shirt, against his chest, he had flickering flames with "Hermione Forever" etched inside, the letters made of shimmering scales that changed colours, oh which she had a matching version on her ankle replacing her name with his own. His mum told him he'd be covered in ink if he didn't stop soon, but Hermione assured him she loved them. After the accident, she had to have her Kelemen memorial tattoo repaired on her shoulder and while at the parlor, had a small tattoo depicting Ashby on cloud, holding a tiny book in her arms as she lay fast asleep magicked onto her other shoulder blade.

Hearing the creak of the back door, Charlie looked up from his position crouched near the ground to see a very pregnant Hermione making her way into the backyard. She was dressed in a pale pair of capri pants and a flowery top that stretched around her large stomach. Her feet were bare and he smiled as she wiggled her toes in the grass. She used her hand to cover her eyes from the bright sun to watch Ashby as she ran around in circles, chasing Zeus and laughing as she got closer but he managed to escape her grasp once more. With an amused sigh, Hermione moved to sit down on the grass, carefully plopping down, leaning back on her arms and casting him a grin. "I was bored and lonely," she told him when he gave her an amused and inquisitive look.

"How would you know, you were supposed to be napping?" he asked, grinning.

Rolling her eyes, she muttered something under her breath. "Back to work, Weasley, I didn't come out here to sit in the hot sun for nothing," she ordered cheekily.

Laughing, Charlie cocked his brow at her as he wrapped his hand around the ankle of a gnome that had come out to investigate what it was he was doing peering into the gnome holes. He swung him around a few times, his arm flexing and stretching, and tossed it as far as he could. Curious and rather dumb, the other gnomes began pouring out of the holes to find out what was going on and Charlie started rounding them up, throwing them away and feeling the sun scorch his skin, causing a sheen of sweat to break out. He found Hermione still watching him, a familiar smirk on her face as he finished up with the last couple of gnomes, rather amused at how much they seemed to enjoy being chased. Crookshanks was tearing after a gnome, chasing it out of the yard, while Zeus was barking loudly at a nearby gnome, running circles and wagging his tail excitedly. Ashby watched from her perch leaning against Hermione's stomach, intrigued by Charlie's de-gnoming and enjoying her mother's ministrations as Hermione parted and untangled her hair with her fingers.

"This is the real reason you married me, isn't it?" he teased, moving to lay on the grass next to her, his breath a little quicker with his small work out. "To de-gnome your garden at your whim."

Hermione snorted, smiling down at him with one eye closed against the sun. "Of course," she said simply. "There were a few other reasons, but they pale in comparison to your incredible de-gnoming abilities." She shrugged her shoulder as she turned her attention back to Ashby, fingering the shoulder strap of her dress. "This is very pretty, who got it for you?" she wondered, smiling knowingly.

"Jonas did," Ashby told her happily. "You know what?" she asked, turning around to look up at her mum expectantly.

"What?" her mum asked, leaning back slightly as Charlie ran his hand up and down her back, fingers massaging lightly.

"I already know who I'm going to marry," she told her matter-of-factly.

"Oh yeah?" Hermione replied, looking much at Charlie who sat up suddenly.

"Nobody!" he exclaimed, shaking his head. "She's going to stay home and live with her papa forever," he said, reaching out and running his hand over her wild red hair.

Ashby looked up at him with a frown, her brow furrowing. "Don't be silly, papa. I hafta grow up and get married and have somebody de-gnome my garden, just like mummy. Don't worry though, you'll like him. I know so, 'cause you already do. See, 'cause I'm gonna marry Jonas. He's the coolest person I know and he loves dragons!" she told them, her eyes lighting up. "And he gets me pretty dresses and he says I'm his special girl. I'm his favoritest in the whole world!" she said, holding her arms out as if trying to show them just how much. "And he'll let me see the hatchlings all the time then and teach me how to keep the dragons like you and mummy do. And you can visit too, papa," she told him, reaching out to take his hand as he stared at her, stunned. "Anytime you want, you can come see us. But you'll be okay, don't be sad. You'll have mummy forever and ever and I'll always be your princess!"

Charlie stared at her, his mouth opening and closing but nothing coming out.

Hermione laughed, patting his shoulder. "Are you sure this is what you want, Ashby?" she asked her daughter, her fingers stroking her hair like she usually did when she found her daughter doing something amusing that made her father stunned into silence. "Because you know, Crystal still loves Jonas very much and I think she might have a problem with it," she reminded with a dramatic sigh.

Ashby frowned, shrugging one shoulder. "Well then I'll marry somebody just like him," she said, nodding. "Does Jonas have a brother, papa?"

Hermione laughed richly, hugging her daughter warmly against her stomach. "You better stop or your papa is gonna have a hard time reviving for the BBQ," she said, kissing the top of her head. "I think I heard somebody inside the house, maybe your cousin is here to play."

Ashby hopped up from the ground, her face lighting up hopefully. "D'you really think it's Luc?" she wondered. Without waiting for a reply, she took off for the house in a run.

"Husband," Charlie finally choked out and Hermione chuckled, reaching out to rub his cheek with the back of her hand affectionately.

"Don't worry, that's so many years away there's no point in even thinking about it," Hermione told him, shaking her head. "Wait until Jonas hears about it though." She grinned, rolling her eyes. "He'll never let you forget it."

"Husband," he repeated, shaking his head forlornly. "She's really going to grow up one day and run off with some bloke!" he exclaimed, frowning.

Hermione moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "Anybody Ashby loves is bound to be a good man, Charlie. When the time comes, I'm sure you'll come to think of him as good enough," she assured.

He snorted, his arm moving to wrap around her comfortably. "It's incredibly unlikely."

She patted his leg, sighing lightly. "Well at least she's too young to marry Jonas," she said, barely restraining her laughter.

"That's not funny," he muttered, trying not to smile. "Where did you go wrong that she'd want a bloke like Jonas anyway?" he teased.

"Me? I think it's your influence," she told him, sitting up and smirking up at him. Shifting around, she struggled to stand up and then glared at him until he stood up to help her. "Fifteen years from now when she brings back her own Jonas it'll be all your fault!" She nodded at him, pointing as if to prove her point.

Throwing his arms up exasperatedly, he shook his head. "I thought you said anybody she fell for I would come to think of as good enough!" he accused, frowning.

Taking his hand, she shrugged. "Jonas is lovable," she replied, smiling at him cheekily.

"I think we should just go along with my first suggestion," he told her, wrapping his arm loosely around her shoulders and walking them toward the house. "She can stay home forever with me and spend her life being incredibly adorable and perfect."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted when Ashby poked her head out the door and shouted, "Papa, Auntie Flower is playin' with my hair again!"

Sighing, Charlie shook his head. "Ash, princess, what did I say about calling her Fleur?"

"That I didn't hafta if she played with my hair," his daughter replied, frowning.

Hermione chuckled next to him, her hand rubbing against her stomach habitually. A soft expression crossed his face and he found himself absorbed by her again. In just six short weeks, he'd have his boys with him and their family would be that much more complete. He'd already been rearranging what used to be the office into their nursery, having the same painter who did Ashby's room, do the same to Edan and Adam's. Fiery dragons, luminescent scales, brown speckles eggs and a whole future set in the walls of his children's rooms. He had a book sitting on the dresser between both handmade cribs, the tale of the Hydra dragon, the same he had read to Ashby when she was still tiny and did nothing but cry, spit up, dirty her nappies, and drool. They'd grow up just a ten minute hike from the dragon reserve, having parents who worshiped the lizards with a passion and a sister who idolized the creatures. They'd grow up learning the stores of Drew the dragon and his drum, and hopefully feel the same excitement Charlie did when he saw shimmering scales, expanded wings, spiked tails, and bursts of flame spat from razor sharp mouths.

People began filling the backyard, Ashby was picked up by one of her uncles as the various Weasley families greeted Charlie and Hermione and began talking to one another about anything and everything. Charlie heard his mum exclaiming loudly about how nice the garden looked and mentioning to Bill that it would be nice if he could stop in and do her the courtesy of de-gnoming her garden. The picnic table was soon brimming with food and conversation and Charlie hung back, standing with Hermione as they simply watched Ashby run around the yard with Luc and Zeus. Crookshanks sat down at Hermione's feet, his bottle-brush tail swishing against Charlie's leg. Their family stood all around them, Harry and Luna Potter with their baby daughter Lily, Ginny and Neville with their daughter Zoey and son Philip, Ron and his fiancée Parvati, Fred and his wife Angelina holding their two and half year old son Grayson, George and Alicia with their sons Fletcher and Graham, Bill and Fleur with Luc and baby daughter Sherry, and lastly Arthur and Molly, his father standing silently while his mother had something to say about everything. It was comfortable, regular, a moment where Charlie felt truly at home.

He rested his chin on Hermione's shoulder, his arms wrapped around her stomach, palms pressed down protectively, thumbs rubbing each time he felt a kick. Hermione leaned back into his chest, sighing lightly, her hands wrapped around the crook of his elbows. In the far distance, they could hear the deep roar of dragons, various species and ages, loud and beautiful to their ears. Charlie squeezed Hermione lightly, kissing the side of her neck and noting the familiar shape of a sugarless candy in her cheek. Some things would never change. He had all he could ask for, all he could ever want out of his life. A future working with the creatures of his dreams, a daughter who was rambunctious and lively, full of energy and love, two boys on the way that he was certain would be just as incredible as their sister, and a wife that would forever fill that once empty spot in his heart. There was a time when he wasn't sure he would ever hold her again, or hear her laugh as she found amusement in the way her daughter talked about marrying a man like Jonas. But the fears that once were could not dampen this moment, could not take from him the warmth he felt as she relaxed in his arms or the thump against his hand as Adam or Edan kicked for attention. It had no bearing over the trill of his daughter's laugh or the sweet scent of coconuts in Hermione's hair. The aversion he felt each time she fell asleep was long forgotten as he saw the familiar sight of the small freckle on her shoulder and felt the soft tendrils of her hair against his cheek.

Hermione turned her head to him, her mouth a few inches from his, soft and tempting. "Will you love, honor, and protect me 'til death do us part, Charlie?" she whispered like she had so many times in the last five years.

"Beyond death," he replied, leaning in to brush his mouth with hers, tasting the familiar tangy flavor on her tongue. He felt the usual skip of his heart and the twist of his stomach, as if it were the first time he'd ever kissed her and it was just as tender as ever. She pulled back from him slowly, licking her lips and nuzzling his nose with hers. She smiled at him lightly before turning back to watch Ashby jump up into Bill's lap, hugging him tight around the neck and babbling on about how Jonas had bought her the dress she was wearing and one day she'd marry someone just like him, but her uncle shouldn't worry, because he could come visit whenever he wanted and they'd have barbecues too. Hermione chuckled lightly. Charlie watched as Ashby soon became more interested in what Zeus was sniffing at over by the garden and rushed off from her uncle, dragging Luc along behind her to investigate.

The sun glinted off the locket around Hermione's throat and he felt her hand slide around the back of his neck, her fingers tugging lightly at his hair. His eyes fell shut and he relaxed into the comfort she spread throughout him without trying. He knew without a doubt that she was the only woman he could have ever had a future with, could ever have forever with. Hermione with her books and her bossiness, her radiant smile and love of fire and scales. With her deep intelligence, inspiring fondness for all things runt-like, strength in all situations, and mischievous attitude when it came to all things involving a cheeky Charlie. He could have searched the world over for someone else but nobody would have fit as perfectly as her, nobody would laugh or frown quite like her, or even talk in their sleep like she did. There was nobody outside of Hermione that he could love like her and he was content to have just her. Her and Ashby, Edan and Adam, all to himself, in a future all their own. It was just his luck that the perfect woman for him could be found only in the world of dragons.

**_End_**

* * *

**A/N** _Okay, well, that's it for my dip in the Charlie ship. I hope you've all enjoyed this as much as I've loved writing it. I did my best to keep everybody in character and I hope it didn't come of cliché. I've really had a wonderful time writing this relationship. Personally, Charlie just completely grew on me. His personality and his love for Hermione really made me connect to him. I'd have to say he was one of my very favorite characters to ever right. With him would have to be Jonas, and from other stories, James and Sirius (**The Werewolf Tamer**). It's kind of sad to see this all end, but I've written all that needs to be read!_

_Thanks for reading. Please review, it's greatly appreciated!  
Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


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